


Champagne

by starkerbee (columbidae)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Daddy Issues, Dark Peter, Dark Tony Stark, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Forbidden Love, Gun Violence, Human Wade Wilson, M/M, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Peter Parker Has Daddy Issues, Peter Parker Is a Little Bit Messed Up, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker isn't Spider-Man, Porn With Plot, Secret Relationship, Server Peter, Slow Burn, Smut, Sugar Daddy Tony Stark, Tags May Change, They're a powercouple tbh, Tony Stark Is Rich, Tony Stark isn't Iron Man, Violence, Weapons, mob boss tony, sex isn't described in detail
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-25
Updated: 2019-05-19
Packaged: 2019-08-07 12:37:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 13
Words: 23,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16408652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/columbidae/pseuds/starkerbee
Summary: It was ashaming how much Peter looked up to a man without a face, one who lived in the shadows. To the public eye Tony Stark is nothing more than a name and a bunch of stories. Peter has heard them, had even spent entire nights online searching for more, and is more intrigued with every single one. He knows how wrong it is to idolize a man who has done such horrible things, but Peter can’t help that he’s a bit fucked up himself.





	1. Chapter 1

Before they even met Peter knew Mr. Stark as the incredibly charming, handsome and smart leader of the most dangerous criminal organisation in the whole of America. Almost everyone on earth has heard stories of Stark Industries’ reputation. Murder, drugs, weapons, prostitution, nothing seems to be too extreme for them.

Peter had always been fascinated by the hushed whispers about the man that lead the whole organisation. Someone who could rule over people who did such unspeakable things must rule with an iron fist, and those were always the people Peter looked up to. The power in Tony Stark’s hands was something Peter could only ever dream about.

It was ashaming how much Peter looked up to a man without a face, one who lived in the shadows. To the public eye Tony Stark is nothing more than a name and a bunch of stories. Peter has heard them, had even spent entire nights online searching for more, and is more intrigued with every single one. He knows how wrong it is to idolise a man who has done such horrible things, but Peter can’t help that he’s a bit fucked up himself.

He isn’t the one to blame for his daddy issues.

Most nights nowadays he comes home smiling, feeling happy and giddy and warm in every single part of his body. These feelings used to be rare for the boy, but that definitely changed when he finally met the man of his dreams.

He clearly remembers their first meeting. Peter had been hired to work as a server that evening, a job he occasionally did to help his aunt out with some of their financial struggles. His task was to walk around the room, and to hold up a tray the entire evening. It isn’t the most exciting job in the world, but it paid surprisingly well and the hours were bearable.

At least, that’s what peter tried to tell himself as he walked into the huge ballroom where the party took place.

The second to last glass of champagne had just been snatched off of his tray, meaning that it was about time for him to return to the kitchen for another one. Peter zigzagged through the crowd, eyes darting past the people in the room. Giggling women with meticulously applied makeup, curled hair and shimmering dresses. Men with brushed back hair, in perfectly fitted suits, sipping on glasses of whiskey.

Peter glanced down at his own attire, frowning at slightly too small uniform. He always felt out of place during these overtly fancy functions. At least the night was almost over.

Feeling out of place, although a very terrible thing to feel, wasn’t a good reason to stop looking where he was walking, though. Peter quickly realised this as he crashed into a hard body, the boy stumbled, and spilled his last glass of champagne over both of them as a result.

Peter heard a lady next to him gasp, and felt the cold liquid soak into his shirt as he quickly composed himself. He needed to fix this right now, or he’d definitely lose this job.

“I’m so incredibly sorry, sir.” he glances up quickly at the man he walked into “I should have looked where I was going, I’m so so sorry-”

“It’s fine kid, could have happened to anyone,” the man says.

Peter looks up at him to asses the damage, and as a result gapes up at him. This gentleman is the most attractive person Peter has seen in his whole life. His brown hair is styled away from his face, revealing deep brown eyes. The man looks mature, but in a way that makes Peter squirm a little. His suit, now drenched in champagne, hugs his body in all of the right places and makes him look incredibly powerful. Peter is fucked.

The words “Mind showing me to the bathroom?” manage to quickly shake Peter out of his thoughts. He composes himself before swiftly nodding.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll- of course, please follow me, sir.”

Peter moves through the crowd much easier now, the sea of people now seeming to part in front of him. He wonders whether that is because of the gorgeous man who now has an encouraging hand resting on the small of Peters back. He tries not to think about it too much.

The two of them enter the bathroom, and the older man immediately sets to work on dabbing a paper towel onto his own soiled suit. Peter follows his example but quickly realises that it doesn’t fix much. The stain remains.

A short while later the man clears his voice “So, kid, how old are you anyway?”

Peter’s head shoots up, very much surprised at the calm tone of the man's voice. He’d expected him to at least be a bit upset.

“I just turned 17, sir.”

The older man slowly nods, now casually leaning against the sink, still holding onto the paper towels. He looks at Peter with a fixed gaze, his eyes going up and down slowly, as if he was checking Peter out.

Peter tears his eyes away, feeling his cheeks heat up with the attention.

“And what was your name again?”

Peter looks up once more, slightly on edge from the amount of questions the man is asking. He hasn’t asked anything outlandish, but he did just ask the basic thing he’d need to know to get peter fired for good.

“My name is Peter, sir. Peter Parker.”

The man stays silent for a second before responding “It suits you, your name.”

“Th-thank you, sir.”

Peter can properly feel the blush on his face now. It’s rare that gorgeous older men compliment him, so he basks in the warm feeling blooming in his chest.

Instead of looking up again he looks down and continues to dab at his wet shirt, the material sticking to his chest. He would have to throw it in the washer as soon as he got home, in order to have it be dry for his next shift the following evening. 

“Uhm, sir, if you want to i could- i could pay for the cleaning of your suit? It was my mistake that it’s dirty now and i wouldn’t want-”

The man laughs loudly, cutting Peter off.

“Sweetheart, no offence but if you’re willing to work this shit job you probably have a better use for your money than spending it on me. Money isn’t a problem for me, so don’t worry about it.”

Peter nods, he’s grateful that he walked into this man, and not someone who gets a kick out of yelling at underpaid teenagers. Trust him, there are plenty of those at these kinds of parties. None of them have ever called him ‘sweetheart’ though.

 

“You seem like a nice kid,” the man adds “I feel like you’d be of a lot more use at a different job though.” 

Peter smiles, unsure if the man just complimented him or insulted him.

“This is the only job that works for my schedule sir, so i don't really have a choice. I have to earn money some way.”

The man makes an approving noise before walking over to a trashcan and disposing of the paper towels. As far as Peter can see he didn’t exactly manage to get his shirt much dryer. He can see the faint outline of a six pack from where he’s standing. Peter awkwardly holds onto his own paper towels, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in an attempt to feel less self conscious.

The man walks toward the door, but pauses before he opens is. He seems to take a second to think before turning around and once again looking Peter straight in the eyes.  
He scratches his, very well groomed, beard for a second before reaching into a pocket in the inner lining of his suit jacket. He pulls out a small piece of paper, quickly checks it over, before handing it to Peter.

“My company could use a sweet kid like you, that pretty baby face of yours could come to use. Call me.” he says, before opening the door and leaving the bathroom.

Peter stands rooted to the ground, dramatically blinking, for a minute trying to process what just happened. He spilled champagne on a very attractive, flirty rich man, walked him to the bathroom, answers like two questions and managed to get a job offering out of it?

What the actual fuck.

Outside the door he can hear people saying goodbye to each other, a glance to his watch confirms that the party is ending soon. Peter closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, calming himself down. He’ll just need to locate the kitchen, avoid running into any more people and then he’ll be able to change into some more comfortable clothes. After that, it’d be straight home for him.

He opens his eyes and walks over to the door. As he pushes it open he catches a glimpse of what was written on the piece of paper he just received. He expected to see swirling letters, long titles and the phone number of someones secretary. That’s what business cards usually look like, right?

Instead the letters are a smaller, written in an easy to read font. There is no decoration on it, and the long title is nowhere to be seen. Its simple, but very straight to the point, it seems fitting of the man who gave it to him.

When Peter finally reaches the kitchen, and he takes the time to actually read the writing, he feels like the ground shakes beneath him. His breath speeds up, he himself is unsure whether it is out of fear or out of excitement. One of the other passing by servers notices him, and asks if everything is alright. Peter manages to nod shakely, and the other thankfully believes him and moves on.

Peter smoothes his thumb over the writing, it feels like his whole body is buzzing now. Finally he smiles, tucking the business card into his pocket. The grin doesn’t leave his face until he falls asleep that night.

Tony Stark’s number, huh?

It must have been Peter’s lucky day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first ever time writing for Starker, so I hope that I didn’t butcher the characters too much. If you have any tips, don’t be afraid to tell me!  
> You can find me on Tumblr under the username starkerbee, feel free to come talk to me over there!


	2. Chapter 2

Peter lays awake in bed two nights later, playing with the small piece of paper between his fingers. The night he received the number he had been so incredibly excited at the possibility to work with someone he’d been looking up to his whole life. But now that he’s had some time to think it over, he isn’t too sure of it anymore. 

It would be a big opportunity for him, to finally get to be around like minded people. But on the other hand it would be dangerous, both for him and the people around him. He couldn’t risk losing aunt May as well.

He put the business card underneath his pillow and reached for his phone. He had a feeling that he wouldn’t be able to get a good night's sleep tonight, anyway. Peter clicked through a few apps before finding himself on a news site.  
Another politician had been found dead in his home, shot straight through the head. Investigators had found files upon files of proof that the man had been abusing both his wife and his 7 year old daughter. The police hadn’t put out any official statements yet but both Peter and the author of the article noticed that all of the current evidence pointed to Stark Industries. 

It was a classic move of theirs, to gather blackmail on prominent public figures and to then kill them, making sure that the blackmail would be found easily. Peter had read hundreds of cases like this, and although only a handful had been proven to be done by Stark Industries, he had the suspicion that this was their main tactic.

This is why, in Peter’s eyes, Tony Stark wasn’t just evil for the sake of it, no, he used violence to stop others from doing more evil. You could call him a murderer all you want, but Peter could only think about how grateful that woman and her daughter must be. Stark Industries saved their lives.

That was the final push Peter needed to make his decision, first thing tomorrow morning he’d call. He needed to help people in similar situation, and the only way he could ever do that was by joining Stark Industries. This was his chance, he wasn't going to miss it.

\--

Peter woke up the following morning to the smell of burned pancakes wafting through the air. God bless aunt May for trying, but she really was a terrible cook. He deliberated going back to sleep but decided against it, leaving his bed instead. Peter snatched a sweater off of his desk chair and pulled it over his head before making his way towards the kitchen.

As expected, that’s where he found his aunt. She was softly singing along to whatever song was playing on the radio, flipping pancakes as she did. She turned around at the sound of Peter entering the room, and smiled at him.

“Morning, Peter! Breakfast’s almost ready”.

She glanced back at the pan, smoke rising up from around the blackened pancake. She sighed before scraping it out and throwing it in the trash can, ladling new batter into the pan.

“Good morning, aunt May” Peter mumbles, still not completely awake.

Peter busies himself by grabbing two glasses out of the cupboard, and filling them with orange juice. He sets them down on opposite sides of the table before taking place himself. He propped his elbow up on the table, and rested his head on top of it, gazing out of the window as he did. He wondered from where Stark Industries operated.

Peter is shaken out of his thoughts by the plate of pancakes being set in front of him. These ones are thankfully not black, but they’re definitely on the darker side. He doesn’t say anything and instead drowns them in butter and maple syrup. May follows his lead, and quickly both of them dig in.

“So how was work last night, anything exciting happen?” May asks in between bites of food.

Peter swallows his bite of pancakes before nodding. He can tell his aunt some of what happened, he just needs to make sure that he doesn’t spill any of the details that could worry her.

“I bumped into a guy and spilled champagne on him. Luckily he wasn’t too upset, so I didn’t get into any trouble.”

May’s brow furrows for a second but then she nods slowly.

“That’s good, at least there are still some nice people left in this world.”

Peter smiles at her warmly and then goes back to his food. The rest of breakfast is spent chatting about aunt May’s work, Peter’s school and other non important things. Peter’s glad that his aunt didn’t bring up his work again, but he still tried to avoid the subject just in case.

After breakfast his aunt gives him a kiss on the forehead and says her goodbyes before pulling on her coat and stepping out of the door. She’d taken on extra shifts this weekend, so Peter would have the apartment to himself for most of today and tomorrow.

He stacks up the empty plates and glasses and disposes of them in the kitchen sink. He’d do the dishes later today. He sits himself down on the couch and turns on the television. He zaps through some channels before the news catches his eye. The anchors are discussing the death of the man Peter read about last night, a picture of the man taking up a good portion of the screen.

Peter jumps up, throwing the remote on the couch behind him. He sprints back to his bedroom, lifting up his pillow in search for the business card he had hidden beneath it. 

Thankfully it’s still there.

The grabs his phone off of his nightstand, immediately unlocking it. Ned had texted him, but he ignored it for now. Before he could overthink it anymore he pressed in the numbers from the card. He didn’t want to start doubting his decision again.

He presses call, the phone ringing two or three times before being answered. Peter holds his breath for a second, suddenly realising that he’s actually doing this.

“This is Tony Stark speaking, to who do I owe the pleasure?”

Peters eye widen in surprise, he hadn’t expected the man to answer the phone himself.

“This- This is Peter Parker, we met at Mr. Lee’s party two nights ago?”

“Ah of course, it’s not like I could ever forget that pretty face of yours,” Peter feels himself blush from Mr. Stark’s words “I thought you’d never call.”

Peter immediately starts apologising, not wanting to upset the man. For all he knows, that might get him killed.

“I’m sorry Mr. Stark, I didn’t call because my aunt was around and I didn’t want to make her worry.”

Tony makes an approving noise from the other side of the line. Peter adjusts the way he’s sitting, making himself a bit more comfortable on the bed. He picks up a stray piece of lego from his nightstand, and starts toying with it between his fingers.

“That’s very smart of you, sweetheart. We wouldn’t want to upset her.” Tony says.

Peter squirms at the pet name, he never imagined that something so small could make him feel like this. There’s something addicting to having a man you know is dangerous calling you ‘sweetheart’ in such a velvety deep voice. Peter should feel slightly ashamed of himself, but everything just feels too right.

Peter makes an affirming sound, not completely trusting his voice at the moment. The rest of the phone call goes by a blur, Tony thankfully doing most of the talking. At the end of it Peter is fully blushing, and has an entirely different worldview on Mr. Stark.

Surely someone who uses such pretty words can’t be evil.

Peter looks at the ripped out piece of notebook paper that he’d grabbed near the end of their conversation. Scribbled on it was a time, 4PM, and a name, Happy Hogan. This man would come pick Peter up from his apartment at the agreed on time the following day. Peter was glad that his aunt had to work, as it made arranging a meeting much easier.

After a while he gets up from the bed, smiling but also feeling conflicted about what he’s about to do. Working for a mob boss isn’t exactly safe, but it sure sounds appealing. He isn’t even sure yet what he’ll do for Mr. Stark once he’s officially hired, but he can’t wait to find out. 

For the first time in forever, Peter feels like he’s making a change in his life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so overwhelmed at all the love this fic has received! Posting my writing is still a bit nerve-wracking but all the positive feedback has made it a lot more bearable for me. This chapter is mostly focused on Peter, but I can promise that the next one has more Tony.  
> If you ever want to come scream about Starker to me, you can find me on my tumblr starkerbee, which I use more often than what is most likely healthy for me lmao


	3. Chapter 3

The following morning during breakfast Peter tells his aunt that he’d be staying home that day. He lied about having homework left to finish, and she trusted him blindly. In her defence, she never even had to consider the fact that Peter could be lying to her. As far as she knew, he had always been truthful with her.

The thought of him leaving the house to go to a meeting with Tony Stark, famed crime lord, would have never even crossed her mind.

May leaves for work at around 2, which means Peter has the house for himself. He used this freedom to loudly sing along to music as he did his chores, something he was often too embarrassed to do with others around. It felt freeing to screech along to his favorite songs.  
He managed to finish a bit of homework as well, in an attempt to create some truth in the lie he’d told his aunt, before it was getting time to get ready.

It took Peter awhile to pick out an outfit, but eventually he decided on a sweatshirt over a button up. He hoped that it was an acceptable outfit to wear for a meeting with a mob boss.

At 3:30PM Peter was showered, dressed and ready to leave. He spent the next hour bouncing his leg while waiting for the time to pass. Weirdly enough it was more out of excitement than nerves. Peter knew that he should be more afraid, but truthfully that just wasn’t how he felt. He had the odd suspicion that nothing horrific was going to happen to him today.

At 4:05PM the bell finally rings, and Peter springs up from his place on the couch to open the door. The man behind it looks exactly like the type of person that Peter would expect to work for Stark Industries. Happy Hogan is tall, broad and very intimidating. And as far as Peter can tell, he isn’t too excited about driving Peter around for the day.

Happy had done a second take when Peter first opened the door, quite obviously not expecting that he’d be driving around such a young kid. He knew Tony preferred them young, but this was really taking things to an extreme. Peter doesn’t look scared to him, so Happy just goes along with everything, hoping that his boss at least still has some common decency left in him.

The two walk to Happy’s car, and Peter gets in the back. He’s pretty sure that he’d never been in a car this fancy before. Suddenly he’s worried that his worn in clothing is dirtying the interior. He doesn’t get much time to worry as he’d quickly distracted by the city they're zooming by. Peter sadly doesn’t get to explore much of New York, as he and his aunt have never had much of a reason to travel outside of their own neighborhood. It’s not like they could afford it, anyway.

Peter stares out of the widow for most of the trip, occasionally annoying Happy with his questions about all the different buildings and places they drove past. Peter had expected them to eventually drive out of the city, and into a more rural place, but that never happened. Stark Industries’ main headquarters were located smack dab in the middle of Manhattan.

Talk about hidden in plain sight, huh?

Happy parks the car nearby and walks Peter, who’s unabashedly staring at the gigantic building, inside. The lobby they walk into looks very modern, and has a lot of light shining in from the huge panels of glass on the outside. Peter doesn’t get much time to take it in as he’s immediately led towards the elevators by Happy. The older man holds up a security badge to a sensor, which then gets the doors to the elevator to open.

Once the two of them step into the elevator, Peter starts to feel his nerves kick in. Why did he think that this was a good idea? He’s going to get himself killed, and then aunt May will come home to an empty house, he can’t make her that upset! And what about Ned and MJ, they’ll probably never know what happened to him! Ugh why did he have to lose all forms of common sense when it comes to attractive older man?

Before Peter could continue his mental rambling, the opening elevator doors shake him out of his thoughts. He has to run to catch up with Happy, who is already halfway through the corridor. At the end of the hall they pause in front of two gigantic wooden doors. Happy knocks on them twice in rapid succession. It’s silent for a second but then a voice answers.

“You can come in.”

Happy opens the door and walks in, Peter following in his footsteps. And there he is, the man Peter has looked up to for most of his life. Tony Stark looks like authority personified behind his huge desk, comfortably leaning back into his leather desk chair. He’s dressed a slight bit more casual than the last time Peter’s seen him, his suit jacket thrown over the back of his seat. Peter gulps at the sight of his muscled arms, which are even more defined by how he’s rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

Mr. Stark smiles at him, “Peter! It’s good to finally see you again.”

“You too, Mr. Stark.” Peter manages to respond, his voice thankfully not shaking too much.

Mr. Stark gestures at him to sit down, and the younger quickly obeys. The leather of the chair underneath him feels cold through his jeans. Behind him Happy fakes a cough, non-verbally asking his boss whether he is allowed to leave. Tony gets the hint, and waves his arm towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah. You can leave. I’ll call you when I need you to drive him back home.”

Peter looks over his shoulder just in time to see Happy leaving the room, loudly closing the door behind him. He turns around to see that Mr. Stark has stood up, and has started filling up two glasses with water. The older man sets one of them down in front of Peter, and keeps the other in his hand as he himself sits back down.

Mr. Stark leans back into his chair, his right leg casually crossed over his left. He looks Peter in the eyes as he slowly takes a sip of his water. He reached over to the other side of his desk, and picks up the relatively thick folder that was laying there. He sets down his glass and slowly flicks through the pages of the file.

Peter feels slightly uncomfortable, Mr. Stark’s silence is worrying. He shifts around on his chair and takes a quick sip of his water. His eyes shift from Mr. Stark’s face to the view behind him, the people he can see through the glass wall looking like ants from this height.

Eventually Tony puts down the file, and clears his throat, slightly starling Peter.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Peter. I like what I see, a lot. From what my people managed to find out about you,” which Peter guesses is quite a lot based on the thickness of the file, “you’re a great kid. You’re smart, don’t get in trouble much, and have a pretty bright future ahead of you.”

Tony crosses his arms and sits up straight, his entire posture shifting from comfortable to defensive. Peter just huddles back into his chair.

“What I don’t get,” Tony continues, “is why you even decided to call me. Sure, you and your aunt aren’t the richest folks in town, but you two seem to manage, my interference doesn’t seem to be required. So, what made you decide to take on my offer?”

Peter rubs the nape of his neck, trying to find a way to explain his reasoning without sounding like an idiot. It’s kind of embarrassing to explain why you idolize your idol, right in front of them.

“A lot of people around me have- uhm, died. At the hands of other people, bad people. And when it happened I was still a kid, I couldn't have done anything to stop it. But now that I’m older, I want to help, I need to.” Peter stresses.

“And you think I’m the person to help you with that?” Mr. Stark asks.

Peter nods, pressing his lips together.

Tony leans back into his chair, rubbing his hand through his beard in thought. He had read Peter’s file, so he knew that there was truth in his words. The kid had lost both of his parents when he was very young, and his uncle only a few years later. Tony knew from firsthand experience how that could fuck a person up.

“You’re hired.”

Peter’s eyes widen comically, his eyebrows shooting up.

“Really sir? That’s- I mean- thank you!” Peter grins “But what exactly will I be doing- like, what’s my job?”

Tony sheepishly realizes that that wasn’t really something he’d thought about. When he’d imagined working with the kid, he’d just thought about him sitting in on meetings, keeping Tony company and being something nice to look at. He’d read Peter’s file though, and it was obvious that he was more than just a pretty face. It’s be a shame to waste all of that talent.

Peter watches Mr. Stark lean his head back against the headrest of his chair, staring at the ceiling in thought. Did he really offer him a job without even having a specific job opening in mind?

After a minute or two Mr. Stark looks back at Peter, “How about you’ll be my personal intern for now, that way you’ll get familiar with all the kinds of things Stark Industries does. If you eventually find something that interests you, you’ll be free to go pursue that, deal?”

Peter nods enthusiastically, not even thinking about the implications of being the personal intern of a criminal. The idea that Mr. Stark believes in him enough that he’ll basically let him do whatever he wants sounds insane to him. But it’s reality, so he’ll have to get used to it.

They talk for a little while longer, Peter asking every single question he could come up with and Tony answering all of them.

“Should I get a suit, sir?”  
“I’ll have someone measure you next time you come over.”

“What should I tell my aunt?”

“I own a few laboratories, I’ll make it look like got offered a job at one of them.”

“Mr. Stark, when do you expect me to come into work, am I going to get a schedule?”

“I’ll contact you if I think something could be interesting to you.”

After about half an hour of them going back and forth Peter feels like he has all the information he needs. He feels calm, kind of like he has his shit together. It’s a relatively unfamiliar feeling for him.

Eventually Mr. Stark glances at the clock on the wall, Peter’s eyes following his. Fuck, it’s half past 5 already, they've been talking for ages.

“It’s about time for you to go home, isn’t it? I’ll call Happy for you.”

Tony pulls an expensive looking phone from his pocket, Peter feels oddly aware of the slightly outdated phone in his own back pocket. The phone call lasts less than a minute, the older man's words being short and to the point.

It doesn’t take long for Happy to arrive to the office, he must have been waiting nearby, Peter guesses. Peter and Tony say their goodbyes, Peter timidly and Tony with a head pat and a pet name or two. Before Peter knows it he’s back in the hallway, sprinting to keep up with Happy.

The elevator ride isn’t as terrifying this time, and Peter feels much more at ease. He’s alive, he has a job that he’s excited for and Mr. Stark was actually nice to him. Who would have thought?

Peter and Happy step back into the car, which was already parked out front of Stark Industries. Once Peter’s settled in the back of the shiny black vehicle Happy turns around at him.

“Did everything go okay in there?” He asks.

Peter nods, a smile on his face. “Yeah! Mr. Stark was actually really nice, he got me a job!”

Happy’s eyes widen, did Tony really hire someone that young? Doesn’t he realize how much that would end up fucking the kid up? Hell, he himself sometimes had trouble dealing with the shit Stark Industries does, and Tony just expects a kid to do that?

“Sure, that’s great,” Happy says, turning back around to start the car.

During the ride back Peter is mostly quiet. He’d gotten so much information in such a short period of time, that he needed a moment to process it all. The fact that he’s finally going to help in a cause he’s been interested in for so long is bizarre.

Before Peter realizes it, they’re already parked in front of his building. Happy opens the door for him, and Peter scrambles to get out.

“Take care, kid.” Happy says, before walking back around the car and opening the door.

“You too, Happy, drive safe!” Peter smiles at the older man.

Happy steps into the car, and slams the door shut. Within seconds he's already halfway down the street. Peter turns around to face the building, and fishes his keys out of his pocket. He walks up the steps, and unlocks the door. It slams shut behind his back, and when he walks up the stairs to his apartment he's still smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They meet again! This chapter was a little bit more difficult to write, but I'm actually quite happy with how it turned out. If you have any thoughts, or ever just want to ramble about starker to me, you can find me on my tumblr under the name starkerbee, thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

“When were you going to tell me?” His aunt asks him a few nights later.

Peter averts his gaze as he scoops up some more pasta from the dish in front of him, attempting to avoid answering her question for as long as he can. If his aunt has found out about Mr. Stark, then well- he’s as good as dead.

“What do you mean?” He asks around a mouthful of spaghetti bolognese.

His aunt purses her lips and stares up at him over the top of her glasses. Peter stills in the middle of chewing his mouthful of food.

Slowly a grin starts to appear on aunt May’s face, and then eventually a huge smile. Peter stays silent.

“The paid internship at the lab of course! Doctor Banner called me this afternoon, asking for some of your personal information. Why didn't you tell me you applied?” She enthusiastically rambles.

Peter swallows his food and smiles awkwardly, thank god she hasn't found out yet, he thinks. He drops his fork on the table, where it clinks against his plate. He scratches his neck before answering “I didn't tell you because I didn't think I'd actually get the internship. I was just as surprised as you are.”

His aunt smiles proudly, a twinkle in her eyes.

“Honey, you're so incredibly smart, of course you got this internship.” Her voice cracks on the last word. Peter can see her tear up from where he's sitting on the other side of the table.

Her hand reaches out to him, and he grabs onto it. He softly smiles at her as he rubs his thumb over the palm of her hand.

“Your uncle he- he’d be so incredibly proud of you Peter.” The tears are running over her cheeks now “you're growing up into a man he'd be so proud of.”

Peter feels his own eyes tear up a little bit now, as the thought of his uncle tends to do. There isn't a day that goes by without him thinking of uncle Ben. It’s difficult losing someone who you looked up to so much. He doubts that Ben would be proud of how Peter has chosen to avenge him.

After a minute or two May stands up from the table and grabs a few tissues from the box in the kitchen. She walks back and hands one to Peter, both of them quickly dab their cheeks dry. She sits back down and continues eating, Peter follows her example. The rest of dinner they casually chat, Peter avoiding the topic of his new “internship” as much as he can. He can't risk slipping up and accidentally mentioning Stark Industries.

Thankfully they finish eating not much later, and Peter hides away in his room as soon as he's excused from his dishwashing duties. He closes the door behind him and flings himself onto his bed. 

His phone, which he put an extra password on ever since his meeting with Mr. Stark, notifies him of a received text. He slides his finger across the screen to open it, to his delight it's a message from Pepper, who he had been introduced to by Mr. Stark over a phone call a few days earlier.

Hi Peter, this is Pepper. Tony was hoping you could come in tomorrow afternoon, would that work for you?

Peter quickly checks his class schedule for the next day. His last class, history, ends at 2PM. If he goes home immediately after it ends he should have plenty of time to spend at Stark Industries.

Hi Pepper! School ends at 2PM for me, so that works just fine!

Her reply is immediate.

Great, Happy will pick you up at school.

Peter sends her a few happy emojis in response, and closes the conversation. A few taps later he’s pulled up Mr. Stark’s profile picture and has it on full screen. Peter bites his lip as he looks at it. The older man has his head tilted ever so slightly, his softly hooded eyes staring straight at the camera. He looks confident, unafraid, like he’s in control.

He looks insanely hot.

Peter presses the home button on his phone, closing out of the picture, before putting it back down on his nightstand. He shakes his head from side to side, almost as if his mind is an etch-a-sketch, in an attempt to rid himself of any impure thoughts. He’s a teenage boy, okay? He can’t help that he’s like this sometimes.

He gets up from his place on his bed, and walks over to his cluttered desk. He sorts a few of the loose pieces of paper into a stack, before plopping himself down on his desk chair. If he won’t have any time to do homework tomorrow, he’ll just have to work a little harder today.

\---

School the next day feels dull compared to the thought that Peter will be working at Stark Industries once the last bell rings. The students around him are just as antsy as he is, all of them looking forward to the beginning of the weekend. Peter takes a glance at the clock above the door every five minutes, and keeps bouncing his right leg up and down. He’s relieved when he sits down for his last class of the day, history.

Ned, who has taken the seat next to him, glances at their teacher, who still seems to be preoccupied with talking to one of the girls at the front of the room. 

“Are you okay, dude? You’ve been acting kinda weird today.” He says.

Peter blinks up at him for a second “Yeah I’ve- I’m fine! I’m just a little nervous, I uhm- I’m doing my first shift at this lab after school.”

“Wait, really?” Ned loudly exclaims, making everyone in the class turn their heads in their direction. Ned smiles sheepishly, and Peter stares at his table until his classmates get distracted by something that isn’t his friend.

Once the chatter in the room returns Peter answers “Yeah I uh- I applied for an internship a while ago, I didn’t think I’d actually get it. It was pretty cool.”

“Dude, why didn’t you tell me, when did it start?”

“I’m actually coming in for my first shift after school, I was planning on telling you guys once I’d actually been there.”

Ned nods in understanding “So what are you-”

“Leeds, Parker, can I start my class or do you want me to wait for you two to finish your conversation first?” Mr. Wright interrupts them from where he’s standing behind his desk at the front of the room.

Peter and Ned both splutter out apologies, before quieting down and letting their teacher start his lesson. Peter spends the next fifty minutes half-assing his notes, and glancing at the clock. The second the bell rings Peter is shoving his books in his bag, and with a quick “Have a good weekend!” to Ned, he’s out the door.

Happy’s car isn’t hard to locate, the shiny black car he drives is kinda hard to ignore in a parking lot filled with the banged up, second hand cars that most of the students drive. Peter waves at him from across the parking lot, but he doesn’t get much more than a swift nod from Happy.

‘Hi Happy!” Peter says once he’s stepped into the backseat of the car. “How are you doing?”

Happy grumbles back a reply “I’m fine, Peter. I’m fine.”

The two of them zoom around the city in relative silence, Peter having too much on his mind to chat and Happy just preferring not to. It’s nice that he doesn’t have to take the subway into Manhattan, Peter thinks at some point during the drive. They arrive at Stark Tower a half hour later, and Happy walks him in. The elevator ride is thankfully a lot less stressful this time. Happy once again knocks on the big heavy doors of Mr. Stark’s office, before they get the affirmation that they’re allowed in.

Tony looks impeccable as always, the suit he’s wearing is pinstriped this time, and it suits him very well. He smiles as Peter enters the room, and quickly waves Happy away.

“Hiya Peter, I’m glad you could come in today. Come sit.” Mr. Stark tells him.

Peter walks over to Mr. Stark’s desk, and sits down in the leather chair opposite of the other man. Thankfully this time Tony isn’t as keen on keeping him waiting, and pretty much immediately starts talking.

“How was school today, sweetheart? Get into any trouble?”

Peter shakes his head in response “It was fine, Mr. Stark, a little bit boring. I didn’t get into any trouble.”

Tony smiles at him “Good, that’s what I like to hear. Anyway, you’re probably wondering what you’re going to be doing here today, right?”

Peter nods, his eyes wide and exited.

“First of all, I promised you some new clothing, didn’t I? I’ll have someone bring it up here.”

Tony averts his eyes from Peter’s face, reaching across his desk to press some buttons on a phone. “Pepper, can you bring the order of clothes I placed for Peter up to my office?” He speaks into the machine. He waits for a response for a second, before making a sound of approval and hanging up.

“Anyway, once we’ve gotten you some clothing to suit the job, you’ll be joining me in a meeting. Nothing too extreme, but I thought that that’s be a good way to ease you into all of this. Is that okay for you?”

Peter nods approvingly “Of course! Uhm so, the clothing, is it going to be suits?” he asks, his eyes glancing to Tony’s outfit as he speaks. It’s not that he doesn’t like suits, it’s just that he prefers looking at people wearing then, rather than putting one on himself.

The tone of Peter’s voice portrays his dislike of said outfit clearly, and Tony affectionately shakes his head no at the question.

“I’d need some measurements from you if you wanted a suit, so for now I requested some simple things. Someone as pretty as you doesn’t need an over the top outfit to look good.”

Peter’s face flushes, and thankfully someone knocks on the door before he even gets the opportunity to reply. He turns his head towards the door, as Tony tells whoever it is to come in.

The woman who opens the door is tall and blonde, she gracefully balances on high heels as she steps into the room. A man behind her pushes a clothing rack on wheels into the room, his head bowed, before he quietly leaves again. 

Once the lady starts to talk Peter realises that she’s Pepper Potts, the woman that’d texted him the prior day. She looks just as fierce as she’d sounded, and Peter suspects that that’s exactly how she portrays herself in every other aspect of her life.

“Good afternoon, Tony, Peter. I believe these are all the clothes you asked for. If something doesn’t fit right, just tell me and i’ll see what I can do.” she says. She then stays silent for a second, raising her eyebrows and waiting Tony’s approval.

“Wonderful, thanks a lot Pepper. Wouldn’t know what I’d do without you.”

She smiles before turning around, stepping out of the room and gently closing the door behind her. Peter’s eyes linger on the door for a second before he turns back around to face Mr. Stark.

The older man is leaned back in his chair, eyes hooded, the epitome of in charge. When he smiles at Peter, it makes a shiver run down his spine in response. 

“Well, love, let’s get you dressed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edit: Well I fucked up didn't I? I accidentally posted chapter 3 again, instead of chapter 4. This is the right one though, my apologies1
> 
> I feel like the beginning of this is kind of bad compared to the rest of it, but I still hope this was worth the wait! As of right now I have the next chapter finished, and I'm working on the one after that. I'm aiming on having that one about halfway finished before posting chapter 5, which shouldn't take too long. 
> 
> If you ever want to find me on Tumblr, I'm starkerbee on there as well, so feel free to come talk to me over there!


	5. Chapter 5

The knife hidden in Peter’s brand new boots forces him to adjust his walk as he follows Mr. Stark through the twisting hallways of Stark Tower. He catches a glimpse of himself in the glass paneling of the building, and pulls the sleeves of his satiny black bomber jacket further down over his hands. Earlier Mr. Stark had promised him that he looked good, but Peter couldn't help feeling slightly self conscious in his new, tight clothing. He’d gotten used to wearing oversized sweaters and hand me downs from his uncle. This took some getting used to.

Thankfully, Tony had given him a quick rundown of what Peter could expect from today before the two of them had left the office. “You’ll be joining me to a meeting, nothing too exciting, just some of the men who are in charge of drug dealing around Manhattan. Their profit has been a little too low for my liking the past few weeks, today we’re going to see how to fix that.” The older man had said.

“Don’t worry about joining in on the conversation, okay? I’ll do the talking, I just want you to observe today.” he had continued.

Peter looked up at him and nodded. He isn’t completely sure what to expect from the meeting, but he hopes it isn’t too extreme. Mr. Stark hadn’t sounded angry, so this profit thing probably isn’t a huge problem, right?

The conference room they eventually step into is just as modern as the rest of the building. Light shines in from the huge windows and hits the long, white table surrounded by matching chairs. Three men stand up from their seats at the sight of Mr. Stark, all of them dressed in well-fitted suits.

They wish him a good morning, their loud voices trumpeting through the room. Peter humorously realises that they sound like soldiers, talking to their superior officer. Mr. Stark seems to take it this way, making them shut up and sit down with just a wave of this hand. The older man’s warm, gentle hand guides Peter towards the chairs. They sit down side by side, and Peter feels the gaze of the three men opposite them burning in his face.

Peter glances over at Tony, who doesn’t look amused to be in the presence of these people. Earlier it’d sounded like whatever was going on with them wasn’t that big a deal, but the look on his face makes Peter suspect that he’d played it down in front of him. If that’s really what Tony had been trying to do, then it was kind of sweet, Peter thinks.

“Aren’t you going to explain?” Mr. Stark says, the look on his face unreadable and stony.

The three men scramble to come up with something, all three of them talking over each other until their words are a jumbled up mess. They sound submissive, weak, even. The contrasts between the three of them and the pure power flowing off of Mr. Stark is almost absurd.

Peter has to stifle a giggle as Tony tells them to shut up, and points at the man all the way on the right to talk.

At first what comes out of his mouth sounds like gibberish to Peter, but it seems to make sense to Mr. Stark, who occasionally nods at the man. After listening for a while Peter manages to make out that there’d been an issue with a supplier, who’d recently lost a whole lot of customers. Something about having to relocate because of suspicious policemen.

The man seated opposite of Tony keeps sliding pieces of paper across the table, they’re littered with graphs, long lists of numbers and paragraphs of text. A few of the words are bolded, and Peter quickly realises that the new location these men are proposing to sell drugs from is a home for retired people located on the edge of town.

Peter has been there a few times before with his primary school as part of a program to combat loneliness in the elderly. He clearly remembers the sweet old men and women, and the idea that Stark Industries would be dealing drugs from their home seems odd. Peter wants to speak up about his thoughts, but stays silent, still afraid to disobey Mr. Stark’s earlier orders.

Instead of speaking up he casually looks around the room, taking in the minimalistic decor. When he eventually looks straight ahead of him he notices that the man opposite of him is staring at him. Peter, who’s slightly freaked out by the look in the man’s eyes, gives him a weak smile and looks away. Something about that man makes his feel weird, makes him break out into goosebumps.

He tries to avoid the man’s gaze, but when he glances back minutes later the man is still looking at him the same way. Peter looks down at the large white table, and shifts his chair closer to Tony, as if that’d stop the staring.

Mr. Stark looks over to Peter at the sound of his chair scraping across the floor. When he turns his attention towards Peter the man who’d previously been staring at him bashfully looks away. Tony notices, but doesn’t directly speak to the man, instead he diverts his eyes to Peter, who looks just the slightest bit distressed.

“Is everything okay, Peter?” he finally asks.

Peter looks up at him, lips pressed together and eyes wide. “Yeah uh- everything’s fine. I just wasn’t sitting that comfortably.” he lies.

Tony nods slowly, before scooting his chair back. He looks at the man opposite of Peter, before tapping his lap. He stares the man straight in the eye as he speaks “Peter, come sit on my lap.”

Peter’s eyes widen as he freezes in the spot. Mr. Stark’s request is shocking, but focusing on the dark look on his face Peter can guess where it came from. The gaze from the man in front of him had made him uncomfortable, but oddly enough Mr. Stark’s request hadn’t made him feel that way at all. It actually felt kind of nice that the older man was physically trying to get him out of an uncomfortable situation.

The room is silent now, everyone waiting for Peter’s reaction. He stays still for a second before slowly getting up from his seat. He bites his lip as he steps towards the older man, avoiding the gazes of the others in the room. Once he finally looks up, Mr. Stark’s eyes are dark and hooded, and a shiver runs down Peter’s spine.

He sits down on Mr. Stark’s lap, and shuffles back slightly until he’s comfortable. The body pressed against his back is warm and comforting, and the hand Mr. Stark places on his hip feels grounding. Peter exhales loudly, and looks up at the three men seated opposite of him.

The three of them look slightly flustered, obviously not expecting Mr. Stark to make such a bold move in front of them, and most definitely not expecting Peter to actually go through with it. Thankfully, it does seem to have made the staring man, who Peter later learns is called Toomes, look the other way. 

With one hand Mr. Stark waves at the three men to continue speaking, as the other hand rubs comforting circles into Peter’s hip. Peter spends the rest of the meeting on the older man’s lap, his face flushed and a soft smile on his face. It’s rare that Peter ever gets to enjoy this much physical contact with another human being, so he enjoys it while he can.

The meeting ends with the three men promising to correct their mistakes, and a few threats from Mr. Stark to ensure that they will. A tap on Peter’s hip tells him to stand up, which he begrudgingly does. The other men shout their rehearsed goodbyes their way, Peter notices that they sound a lot less confident than they had when they had first entered the room.

The sound of the door closing behind them is Peter’s que to take a deep breath. He hadn’t realized how distressing that whole meeting had been. Being stared at like that had made him feel violated, and just kind of icky all over. He glances back at the closed door, imagining the man behind it, only to jump at the feeling of Mr. Stark resting his hand on Peter’s shoulder.

Right, that had also happened. He’d spent a good portion of a serious meeting seated on his boss’s lap. His cheeks tint pink at the thought, as he looks up at Mr. Stark. The older man gives him an encouraging smile, which Peter returns wholeheartedly.

No matter what had just happened, Peter just sat in on his first Stark Industries meeting, and that was a huge deal.

They leave the conference room, and the men inside of it, behind them as they once again return to Mr. Stark’s office. Stepping into the office feels like a breath of fresh air, and the cold leather chair beneath Peter now almost feels familiar. He’s handed a cold glass of water and he gratefully takes a sip. 

“I’m sorry I made you do that, I could have predicted Toomes would be like that. He can be a bit of creep, I shouldn’t have put you in that position.”

Peter swallows the last of his drink, shaking head head at Mr. Stark’s words. 

“It’s okay,” he says “I didn’t mind sitting on your lap that much- it uhh, it made made me feel safer.”

Peter feels himself blush, something he’s been doing a lot since meeting the older man, and avoids eye contact. He fears that if he does look Mr. Stark in the eyes, he’ll spontaneously combust, and ruin the really nice clothes he was given. Knowing that Mr. Stark actually cares about his well being is a great feeling, and he enjoys it wholeheartedly.

“I’m glad, kid.” Mr. Stark says, “Any thoughts about the rest of the meeting?”

Peter looks up, worrying his lip between his teeth. The suggestion of dealing drugs from within a retirement centre did make him feel a bit odd. He’d never actually witnessed a drug deal, but he could imagine they could get violent. The thought about innocent old people being near something like that just doesn’t sit right with him. Mr. Stark did seem to accept the idea, so what if Peter’s just overreacting?

Mr. Stark notices his apprehension, and urges him to voice his thoughts.

Peter rambles, about his visits to the home, about how nice all the people living there had been, how hardworking the staff seemed, how he was worried they’d get hurt. He proposes a different location, a McDonald's restaurant on Eighth Avenue that’s usually deserted of people. He talks about how it’d be safer, off the radar of most people, while still being a good place to do the deals.

When he starts speaking his voice is still unsteady, slightly shaky, afraid he’s overreacting. With every nod and hum of agreement from Mr. Stark, though, his voice gets more stable, and his posture straightens up.

By the end of his rambling he’s sitting up straight, looking Mr. Stark directly in the eyes and speaking loud and clear. Once he’s finished he takes a deep breath, and places his hands, which were waving around earlier, in his lap. Mr. Stark is leaned forwards in his seat, his brow furrowed in attentiveness and a slight smile on his face. He looks interested, and maybe even a bit proud.

“Good job, sweetheart.” He says, “You just saved me one hell of a lot of work.”

A smile blooms on Peter’s face, he feels proud of himself. Yes, he did that, he alone did that. He helped Mr. Stark, he contributed to the company, he’s actually taking part in something. It’s a wonderful feeling, both warm and comforting, and just slightly addictive. Peter can already feel the need for more, for doing more, and for receiving more of Mr. Stark’s praise.

He rides the high of this feeling for the rest of the day, while Mr. Stark asks him his thoughts on other Stark Industry related topics, while he’s sitting in the back of Happy’s car, while he’s having dinner with his aunt and even late at night when he’s laying in bed.

Peter’s contributing, he’s making Mr. Stark proud. What more could he possibly want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of at a place with this story where I know where I want it to go, but I'm having trouble actually getting it there. So, for the past few days i've been planning everything out, in the hopes that that'd help. if I can say so myself, there's some pretty cool stuff coming up lol
> 
> If you ever want to find me on Tumblr, I'm also starkerbee on there. Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tags have been updated to suit this chapter. Please check them before reading, as I don't want to upset anyone :)

In the months after that first meeting Peter had gotten used to the routine of going to meetings, and had spent hours listening to Mr. Stark debate all sorts of topics with his ‘employees’ during them. Peter now recognized faces from the files he’d occasionally be shown, could form proper opinions on matters such as weapons trade and had grown comfortable around people he knew earned their money by killing others. It wasn’t something most people could boast about, but damn it, Peter was proud of himself for all of it.

It still kind of hurt that he _couldn’t_ share it with anyone.

Something that makes up for that is that he and Mr. Stark had actually grown closer over time, their relationship now resembling something akin to a mentor-mentee relationship. Peter wasn’t afraid to voice his opinions anymore, because now he knew for sure that Mr. Stark appreciated his input, and Mr. Stark trusted Peter enough to teach him all sorts of things about running a criminal organisation. It’s a refreshing feeling to be treated like an adult whenever he’s at Stark Industries, especially considering that at most other places he’s still treated like a child.

So, when Peter finally gets another text from Tony, he’s ecstatic. His last visit to the organisation had been a mere week ago, but he was already itching to return. The text felt almost like a gift from god, at that point.

_2 AM, Happy will pick you up. - TS_

And so here Peter was, getting dressed in the middle of the night to go to what he expected to be another meeting. He’s never actually been to a meeting this late, so he’s curious as to why this matter couldn't be handled at a more reasonable hour. He tries to not put too much thought into it, trusting that Mr. Stark has a valid reason to make him go outside at 2 AM.

His aunt had returned from her shift a mere 4 hours ago, and was now, hopefully, passed out in her room. With that in mind, Peter put on his clothing as silently as he could, thanking the gods that his aunt was a deep sleeper, before opening his window and stepping out onto the fire escape. He left his window cracked open, shivering in his thin coat, and makes his way downstairs. As promised, Happy is already waiting on him when he steps off of the fire escape. 

The older man seems to be a bit grumpy about having to be up at this time of night, and responds to Peter’s whispered “good morning” with a grunt. The car door is opened for him, and Peter gratefully steps inside. The clothing Mr. Stark had given him was all still back at Stark Industries, to ensure that aunt May wouldn’t find it. As a result, Peter was dressed in his own clothing, which didn’t do the best job of protecting him from the cold night air. The car is warm though, and Peter has to do his best to not fall asleep during the drive.

The two of them arrive at Stark Tower half an hour later, the building lit up by the bright lights surrounding it. The door is opened for him, and Peter steps out of the car, barely suppressing a yawn. Happy doesn’t lead him up to Mr. Stark’s office this time, but to an empty conference room on a lower floor. Happy points to the clothing rack in the middle of the room, and tells him to get dressed, before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.

The clothing picked out for Peter consists of tight black jeans, a button-up shirt, a fur lined coat and some nice black sneakers. He puts everything on, marvels at the softness of the coat for a minute, before gathering his own clothing in his arms and stepping out of the room. As expected, Happy is waiting for him just outside of the door.

 “You can leave those at the front desk for when we return,” he says.

 Peter nods, holding onto the bundle of clothing as he steps into the elevator. As instructed he sets all of it down at the front desk, the old man standing behind it smiling at him as he picks them up. Peter smiles back, before turning around to follow Happy out of the door.

The night air is more forgiving this time, thanks to the nice warm coat covering him. Mr. Stark is waiting on them by the car, a handful of tall, burly men surrounding him. He looks even more handsome now than he ever has before, his hands stuffed into the pockets of a long elegant coat, his face softly lit up by a nearby light. He smiles when he sees Peter, and waves at him to walk over.

 “Good evening Petey, hope we didn’t interrupt your sleep too much.”

 Peter shakes his head no, unable to suppress a yawn this time. Mr. Stark chuckles at the sight, reaching up to ruffle Peter’s hair. They step into the car with Happy, the other men following them in a different vehicle.

 Peter soon gets distracted by the sight of Manhattan at night. Everywhere he looks there are beautifully lit buildings, and brightly colored signs. It’s an enchanting sight, one that he doesn’t think he’ll ever truly get used to. It’s a shame when Peter finally feels the car stop, and he’s patted on the thigh by Tony to signal that they’ve reached their destination.

 The three of them step out of the car, which is when Peter realises that they’re parked outside of a club. Bright, flickering red and purple lights shine through the frosted front doors, and loud thumping music can be heard from where he’s standing on the sidewalk. He turns to look at Mr. Stark, who’s now standing beside him, to see that he’s not at all shocked by their surroundings.

 It makes sense, Peter thinks, that Tony wouldn’t be uncomfortable at the sight of a club, he’s a goddamn crime lord, clubs must be his natural habitat. Mr. Stark holds his head up high, his back straight and a lazy smile on his face as he guides Peter to the entrance. The men who’d been following behind them break up into two groups, one in front of Peter and Tony, and the other half behind them, as they step inside.

 The club is, if Peter had to describe it in one word, disorienting. Masses of bodies move to the beat of the music, lights flickering in time with it. There’s a bar lit up with little red lights, and plush velvet chairs are scattered around the edges of the room. On a large podium a scarcely clad woman swings around a metal pole. Peter clings onto the sleeve of Mr. Stark’s jacket, holding on to stop himself from being dragged into the crowd. The men who came with them make quick work of creating a path for them to walk through, leading them to a door on the far left of the room.

 Once the door closes behind them, Peter feels like he can finally breathe again. He releases his grip from Mr. Stark’s arm, and follows him through the long hallway they’ve ended up in. Somewhere ahead of him a door is opened, and their small group streams into a room.

 It’s more formal than the rest of the club, no flickering lights, dancing people or loud music. Peter decides that he likes this place a lot more than the rest of the club he’d just been escorted through. Tony’s hand guides him to one of the velvet chairs, and the two of them sit down side by side. The men they’d arrived with line the walls of the room, two of them choosing to stand right behind Peter and Tony.

 They sit for a minute or two, waiting on the man they’re here for. One of the men in the room breathes loudly, and Peter focuses on the sound. It’s raspy, doesn’t sound too healthy, almost like a dog that's been forced to run for hours upon hours. It isn’t a great sound. Before Peter can think of any more descriptions of the man’s breathing, the door opens, and two men step in.

 They don’t look too unlike the men Tony had brought with him, both of them also broad shouldered and muscled. They keep quiet, and stand side by side on the opposite side of the room, mirroring Mr. Stark’s men. Joining them is a lithe bodied man, dressed in baggy clothes. His face is thin, his eyes sunken into his face, his abnormally white teeth shine when he smiles at Mr. Stark. He looks weak, almost sick even, Peter notices. The other man sits down opposite them, his legs spread apart wide, seemingly calm.

 “Romaro,” Tony starts, “what a wonderful place you’ve got here.” His voice is cold, his compliments obviously insincere.

 Romaro flashes them a shark-like smile, his intense gaze focused on Mr. Stark. “I try, Tony, I try.”

 Peter looks over to Mr. Stark, seeing his face twitch at the disrespect of being called by his first name by Romaro. Over the past few months Peter has learned that in the world of criminals you _never_ address a superior by their first name, unless you want to die, of course.

 Tony clears his throat loudly, Peter averts his gaze to the floor at the sound. Mr. Stark had taught him that it’s best for him to play up the submissive vibe. Peter is good at assessing situations, and figuring out who’s valuable for Stark Industries and who isn’t. This, although a great thing for Mr. Stark, makes Peter himself a valuable asset. The two of them had decided that it’d be best for Peter to stay quiet and submissive during meetings, as that’d make him less suspicious to Mr. Stark’s ‘businesses partners’.

His pretty face only helped him in that aspect. No one would ever suspect the pretty little boy toy that Mr. Stark liked bringing to meetings with him to be his pseudo right hand man. Peter’s looks were a blessing in more than one way.

 “You said you wanted to talk to me?” Mr. Stark says.

 Romaro nods, “I know some people down in Belarus who make their money with human trafficking. My clubs are understaffed, and it’s easy to get people from over there to the US, cheap too. They've got a shipment ready for transport as we speak. The only thing I’ll need now is your blessing.”

 “And you didn’t think to talk to me about this any earlier?”

 Romaro juts his head out slightly, and puffs his chest out. He looks displeased, but tries to hide it. He was obviously not expecting any rebuttal from Mr. Stark. Romaro stays silent for a second, Peter plays with the sleeves of his coat, slightly nervous from the tension in the room.

 Romaro nervously clears his throat, and when he does so Peter raises his head slightly, glancing up at the man in front of him. Romaro catches his eyes, and Peter can see the corners of his mouth turn up. The gleam in his eyes reminds Peter of Toomes, and the thought of that man makes him break out in goosebumps. He lowers his head once more, sinking into the plush chair.

 “I didn't have any reason to believe you'd be displeased by me simply doing my job.” Romaro speaks.

 “Your job,” says Tony, “is to run stripclubs and bars, not to start involving yourself with human trafficking, Romaro. You need to learn to mind your business.”

 Peter jumps slightly at the venom in Mr. Stark’s voice. He sounds agitated, his fists clenched together tightly as they rest on the armrests of his chair. It obvious to everyone in the room that Romaro is on thin ice.

 Romaro himself doesn't seem to notice, or just simply pretends not to. Peter can see the wheels turning in his head, can see the older man trying to come up with something to fix his earlier mistakes. He seems to struggle slightly, and falls back on his earlier words.

 “I don't have enough staff to let me run my businesses. I need bar men, dancers, servers, bouncers. I don't have those people right now. I need people, people like that boy of yours-” Romaro rambles.

 Peter turns towards Mr. Stark to see him clenching his jaw, his eyes dark and dangerous. Peter himself feels nauseous, the thought of working for a man like Romaro upsetting him greatly. He can hear the man opposite of him continue to talk, and he tries his best to block it out, even closes his eyes so that he doesn't have to look at him. Mr. Stark wouldn't give to to Romaro, would he? No, he wouldn't, Peter has proven himself useful to him, right? The thought of Mr. Stark abandoning him and leaving him with Romaro makes Peter feel like he's going to throw up.

 “- such a pretty face, the men would kill for him. We could train him, he's got the perfect body to work the pole-”

 A loud slam interrupts Romano, and makes both him and Peter jump in their chairs. Tony had stood up, and had thrown his chair backwards in the motion. The piece of furniture now laid abandoned on the wooden floor of the room. Tony looks furious, his face flushed, a vein in his neck throbbing. He steps towards the perverted man, pulling a gun from the waistband of his pants as he moves. Romaro scrambles up from his seat, turning around to the two men that'd came in with him.

 “Do something!” He yelps at them.

 The men stay where they're positioned against the wall, both stone faced. Romaro turns back around to Tony and Peter, beads of sweat emerging on his forehead. The ice cold press of Mr. Stark’s gun against him temple pushes him back in his chair. Romaro closes his eyes in panic, his body curled up in a small ball in the huge velvet chair.

 When he speaks, Tony sounds cold and collected, in that way you can only sound when you're angry out of your mind. Peter feels chills run down his back when he hears it, he himself being frozen in his seat, his eyes wide open at the scene playing out in front of him.

 “I pay a whole lot better than you do, Romaro.”

 Romaro cowers at the sound of these words, realizing that his own bodyguards weren't going to interfere any time soon. He flinches at the sound of the gun cocking, his whole body shaking.

 Mr. Stark’s next words are short and to the point, both terrifying to Romaro and comforting to Peter. Peter feels them sink into the very core of his being, changing his world view in the span of seconds. They calm him, make him feel secure, give him power. In that moment, as he watches Tony press a gun against Romaro’s forehead, Peter realises that there are the words that will one day bring him to his death. The thought of that is petrifying, chills him down to his bones, and settles there. Never to leave again.

 

“No one talks to _my_ boy like that.”

 

The sound of the bullet punching through Romaro’s head is deafening, and leaves Peter with a loud ringing in his ears.

It's a shame, Peter thinks, as he stares at the mess of blood and brains splattered against the wall behind Romaro, that such a nice chair had to be ruined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (The formatting in this was a bit weird, so I hope it's fixed now.)
> 
> Chapter 6 is finally up! This one took a while to finish, but i'm actually pretty happy with how it's come along. Writing the more intense stuff was really fun, and i'm exited to do more of it in the future. 
> 
> Normally I'd tell you guys to come talk to me over on Tumblr, (which you can still do, I'm also starkerbee on there) but I just want to let all of you know that I'm not as active on there right now as I used to be. The changing guidelines have made the future of my blog a little uncertain, which have made me feel a little weird about posting much over there. I do want to let you guys know that even if my blog ends up being deleted, I'll continue to write over here. If anything like that happens i'll update you all on any new accounts through AO3 :)
> 
> I do hope you all enjoyed this chapter, and i'll talk to you all in the next one!


	7. Chapter 7

They’d left the club pretty quickly after Tony had shot Romaro, once again having to push their way through the crowd of unaware people. The swinging crowd made Peter’s stomach churn, and the booming music made him feel even more on edge than he already was. Mr. Stark had stepped away to make a short phone call once they were outside, hidden in the shadows of a tree further down the road. Happy had hurried Peter to the car, trying to get him as far away from the scene of the murder as possible.

The shock didn’t really set in for Peter until Mr. Stark stepped into the car a minute or two later. Romaro was dead, and he was killed because of- no, for Peter. It was a lot to process, so it probably shouldn’t have been a surprise that Peter burst out into tears the second that the car doors slammed shut behind them.

At the sound of Peter’s sobs Tony ordered Happy to close the partition, before turning around to face the younger boy. Peter looks a mess, tears running over his cheeks and his whole face blotchy and red. He’s shaking, and Tony doesn’t hesitate before wrapping his arms around him. Peter sinks into him, buries his face in Mr. Stark’s neck and stays there while he cries.

Tony feels guilty. He was trying to protect Peter but instead he upset him. He could have expected him to react like this, it was the first time he’s seen anyone get killed, after all. Peter being this distressed is all his fault. So, he holds Peter pressed against him tightly the whole way back to Stark Tower, even when the boy’s sobs eventually quiet down.

When the car stops and the two of them are forced to untangle, Peter doesn’t want to let go. Tony was warm and calming, and Peter felt chilled to his very bones from everything he just saw. The thought of changing back into his own clothes, having to go back to his room in Queens, and of having to fall asleep alone in his cold bed makes tears prick in his eyes. How could anyone expect him to act normal when a man just died because of him?

Mr. Stark pulls away first, and steps out of the car. Peter shivers at the gust of cold air, his coat doing nothing to warm him anymore. He stares at his feet for a second, dreading having to go home and face aunt May. His aunt, who dedicates most of her time to stopping people from dying, would surely hate him if she ever found out that he’s the cause of Romaro’s death. She won’t, he desperately tries to tell himself, there’s no logical reason for her to ever look into Romaro, she’s probably never even heard of the man. But what if she has, a voice in his head speaks, what if she does find out?

Peter’s shaken out of his thoughts by the door on his side of the car open. Mr. Stark offers him his hand, and Peter gratefully takes it. He steps out of the vehicle, and is promptly pulled close to Mr. Stark. An arm is wrapped around his shoulder, and Peter burrows into the space between Tony’s arm and his body. The warmth is nice.

He’s walked back to the conference room by Tony, and this time he’s filled with dread as he enters the room, his eyes falling on his original bundle of clothing that had been brought up for him. It feels good to shrug the heavy coat off of his shoulders, the material had been a comfort to him earlier but now just made him feel disgusting. Putting his own clothing back on sadly doesn’t seem to do much to make him feel better.

His own clothing puts him in the mindset of being a student, of coming home to aunt May, hanging out with Ned and taking the subway to school. The clothing he gets from Tony, though, is what he wears when he’s asked for his opinion, when he’s driven around town in a sleek black car, when he’s taken seriously, when he’s treated like an adult. Changing in and out of them forces him to shift between mentalities. It’s almost like he’s living a double life, which he is, he notes with a heartless chuckle while he finishes tying his shoelace.

He has to take a deep breath to work up the confidence to open the door. He feels weak, his hands still shaking lightly as he turns the doorknob. Mr. Stark greets him when he steps into the corridor, and Peter can’t help but notice that he’s got tiny blood splatters dusting his face. Peter smiles up at him shakily.

Mr. Stark reaches up to hold onto Peter’s shoulder, and pulls him in for a hug. Peter grabs onto the older man, trying to control his breathing in an attempt to stop himself from crying again. It’s futile, because before he knows it he’s back to sobbing into Mr. Stark’s chest. He feels terrible, a bit frail. He thought that he was strong, like Tony is, but the way he’s reacting to causing a man to get shot had proven that he’s anything but strong. How could he ever be so delusional to think he was anything like Mr. Stark?

Mr. Stark wiggles one of his arms out of Peter’s grip to stroke over the boy’s hair. Peter feels so tiny pressed against him. He lets Peter hold on until he’s tired himself out, his sobbing once again calming down and his breathing slowing. Tony pulls himself away slightly, the hand that was in Peter’s hair falling down to stroke the boy’s cheek. Peter’s face is red and swollen, his cheeks still wet with tears. Tony offers him a soft smile, and to his glee Peter returns it.

“C‘mon kid. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Peter nods, and follows Mr. Stark down the hallway, roughly wiping at his cheeks with the sleeve of his sweater. It’s weird to step into the elevator without Happy by his side, but Peter comes to the conclusion that he much prefers Mr. Stark’s company.

Once they arrive in the office Peter beelines to the leather chair that he’s familiarised himself with over the past few months. He sits down and rejoices in the way his body sinks into the chilly leather. As usual, Mr. Stark pours him a glass of cold water, and Peter dutifully sips it. The older man crosses the room, and opens a drawer of one of the large cabinets lining the wall. He silently pulls out a packet of wet wipes, and walks back over to Peter.

Peter expects Tony to hand him the wipes, so that he’ll be able to clean his own face, but instead Tony sits down on the desk in front on Peter, and opens the packet himself. Peter watches him pull out a wipe, and reach up to the younger man’s face. Peter’s eyes flutter shut as the cooling wet wipe is swiped over his face. Mr. Stark’s movements are slow, calculated, and Peter appreciates the effort.

When Mr. Stark pulls his hand away Peter opens his eyes again, slightly blushing as he realises how close together they had been. The man across from him smiles softly, and looks Peter directly in the eyes. Peter’s breathing becomes unsteady, and he quickly averts his gaze. Mr. Stark being this close to him, and looking at him like that, makes butterflies swarm his stomach. 

Peter opens his mouth to say something, anything, to break the silence between them, but closes it again when he can’t come up with anything. Tony’s eyes flick down to Peter’s parting lips for a lingering second, before the older man promptly leans away from him. Peter’s brow furrows as he watches the older man stand up from the desk, and walk back to his own chair. 

Oh, Peter thinks, he wasn’t going to kiss me. He shames himself for the thought the second it crosses through his mind. He’s being stupid, why would someone like Mr. Stark ever be interested in a whiny child like himself? Just because he was leaned in a little close doesn’t have to mean anything!

In front of him Mr. Stark is seemingly obvious to how Peter is beating himself up, as the older man fumbles with a pen between his fingers. Peter watches as Tony frowns, deep in thought. They sit in silence for a while, both of them focused on the twirling pen. Peter’s heart jumps when Mr. Stark eventually drops the object onto the desk, where it continues to clatter against the wood for a moment, the sound alarmingly loud in the silence of the room.

Tony is the one to eventually break the quiet “You make me lose my temper.” 

Peter is unsure how he should answer, so instead he just continues to stare down at the pen, his hands playing with the edges of his sweater.

“You’re just such a fucking good kid, and having you in the room with scum like Romaro just makes it more obvious how lucky I am to have you on my side.” Tony continues, “I know you want to take part in shit like this, and I know you’re incredible at the diplomatic part of it, but I don’t think I can handle seeing you this upset ever again.”

Peter’s heart drops. Mr. Stark doesn’t want him around any more. His eyes tear up, and he bites his bottom lip in an attempt to stop them from spilling. He should have seen this coming from a mile away, but it still hurts. His heart feels like it’s cracked in half. Peter truly thought that he’d be able to handle being a part of a criminal organisation, but now he realises that that was a dumb thing to believe. At that moment, seated in Mr. Stark’s office at 4 AM, Peter truly believes that Tony made a mistake when hiring him. 

“Do you- Do you not want me to come here anymore?” Peter eventually asks.

Tony keeps his head turned away, not daring to look Peter directly in the eyes. His shoulders are hunched together slightly, and his eyebrows are pushed together. There's a certain vulnerability about Mr. Stark now, evident in the way he seems to physically turn himself away from the conversation, not daring to fully throw himself into it as he normally does.

“Maybe not anymore for now. I wouldn't want you to get upset anymore than you already have been. You- you deserve better, Peter.” Tony says, his voice mumbled.

The tears now properly start streaming down Peter’s face. They trickle down to splash onto his sweater, where dark spots emerge almost immediately, seeping into the fabric. His lower lip trembles, and his eyes fall to the ground. He pulls the sleeves of his sweater down further over his clenched fists, and rubs his cheeks with them roughly.

They don't share any words for a moment, the only sound in the room being that of Peter’s heart wrenching sniffing.

“I just- I was happy here, Mr. Stark.” Peter whimpers, “I'm sorry that I had to ruin it.” 

Peter doesn't wait on a response before loudly shoving his chair backwards, and turning away from the older man. He's at the door in the blink of an eye, and before Mr. Stark can respond, the door closes behind Peter with a loud slam. 

Tony sits frozen on his chair, staring at where Peter had just loudly left the room. He was shocked at Peter’s outburst, but considering his own word choice, he’s not that surprised. 

The kid seemed upset, and as much as Tony had believed that he was saving Peter from more pain by sending him away, it seemed to have been more than just a little counterproductive. Peter crying like that, and knowing that he’s the one who caused it, broke something inside Tony. It was like Peter took a little piece of him with him when he closed the door behind him.

Some selfish, twisted part of Tony still tried to tell him to stand up, to run after him and tell him that he was wrong, that Peter should stay, but Tony kept strong and ignored it. He was the adult here, and changing his mind like that would just make him look weak. Being weak in front of Peter would make him look more human in the younger eyes. Tony couldn’t have that, he desperately needed to remain a cold emotionless killer in Peter’s eyes. Only that way could Peter distance himself from Tony, only that way could he get away from the criminal circuit. 

So, Tony stayed where he was seated, head buried in his hands, trying to convince himself that he did the right thing, and desperately trying not to sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the long wait! This chapter was pretty difficult to write, so I'm really glad that it's finished now. This fic did end up turning into a bit more of a slowburn than I had anticipated, but I can promise you all that there'll be some proper starker in the next chapter or two!
> 
> As always, if you want to come talk to me about anything at all, you can find me on tumblr as starkerbee. Thanks for reading!


	8. Chapter 8

“Are you okay? You look like you were run over by a train.” Ned says from where he’s seated opposite of Peter in the cantine. Peter looks up from where he was pricking at his lukewarm plate of pasta. He shrugs, not feeling much like talking. He’d gotten a look at himself in the mirror this morning. He’d seen the bags underneath his eyes, the pale tint of his skin, and the way his cheekbones were prominent from accidental weight loss. Ned didn’t need to point it out to him that he looks terrible, Peter was already well aware. 

It was an understatement to say that he’d taken his leave from Stark Industries well. The past few weeks he hadn’t been sleeping as much as he used to, eating even less, and living life like an empty hull of whoever he used to be. During school he’s silent, not speaking until he has to, only doing enough work to keep his grades up, he thankfully isn’t dumb enough to let Tony Stark ruin his chances of getting into a good college.

Needless to say, people have been worried about him.

His aunt got a phone call Saturday afternoon, the day after Peter had stormed out of Tony’s office, from Dr. Banner apologetically explaining why they had to ‘let Peter go for now’. Dr. Banner had made up some bullshit about the lab having to pause all further work due to a funding issue. The lab workers - which, as Dr. Banner explained, included Peter - would still receive their pay for as long as the hiatus would last. A classic Tony lie, Peter thought when May told him the news.

Peter used the same lie to explain his moods to Ned and MJ, but it was clear that they didn’t buy his bullshit one bit. The two of them had stayed silent for the first week or two, but now that Peter’s bad mood seemed to drag on and on, they started questioning him about it more. And that’s how Peter got himself into this situation, seated in front of Ned, poking at a plate of pasta, as MJ slammed her own tray onto the table and sat down next to Ned.

“Any updates on the girlfriend situation?” she asked Peter, reaching for her water bottle.

Ned whipped his head around to face her, eyes wide as he wildly shook his head, attempting to make her stop talking. Peter dropped his fork onto his plate, sitting up straight from his previous slouched over posture. He lowers his eyebrows and squints his eyes at her, what the fuck is she talking about?

She raises her eyebrows at him from where she’s looking at him over her bottle, waiting on his response. Ned on the other hand, has taken to switching between glancing at Peter, and then at MJ for the entire duration of their silent staring contest. Eventually, Peter is the one to give in, buckling under the weight of MJ’s judgemental eyebrows.

“What are you talking about?” he slowly asks.

MJ shoots him a judgemental look, sets her water bottle back on her tray and screws the cap on. Her movements are slow, calculated, meant to drive him up the wall. Peter is still confused.

“You know,” MJ starts “the girlfriend you’ve been moping about for the past few weeks. Ned and I have been nice enough to wait for you to bring her up, but come on, you can’t blame us for being curious.”

Ned now fully turns himself towards Peter, leaning forward over the table slightly as he speaks. “We realised that you wanted to keep everything a secret, but you were kind of obvious about it. We figured it out pretty quickly, but we were waiting on you to actually say something about it. We were going to keep out mouths shut, but MJ just blew that.”

MJ shrugs and shoots Peter a smile at Ned’s accusation, obviously not caring much about breaking their promise. Peter’s head drops, gazing at the table to avoid looking at his friends’ faces. He wrings his hands, thinking about how the hell he he’s going to dig himself out of this hole. He’s reached a point where Ned and MJ know something is going on with him, and denying all of it wouldn’t work anymore. He’s going to have to own up to some of it.

“There was some stuff going on with someone at the lab, but it was not really a girlfriend. It didn’t- It didn’t really end that well.” He lies, biting his lip, trying to stop himself from crying at the thought of Tony, “It’s all kind of my fault.”

Ned reaches over the table to pat Peter on the arm, the look on his face showing that he isn’t too sure about how to help, but that he’s doing his best. Peter glances up at that, sniffing lightly and shooting them a wobbly smile. Ned returns it enthusiastically, while MJ’s is a little more reserved, her brow slightly furrowed.

“Hey, whatever happened probably wasn’t your fault, you couldn't hurt a fly.” Ned jokes.

Peter opens his mouth to reply, but before he can the bell rings and he’s thrown back into reality. Right, they’re at school, he has to get his shit together before he breaks down in the middle of maths class because of Tony fucking Stark.

\---

That night Peter lays awake in his bed, gazing at the ceiling above him. He can’t seem to get his mind off of MJ and Ned’s words. The two of them meant it well, he’s sure of that, but the thought that they thought he was moping over a girl just makes him uncomfortable. The idea of comparing his relationship with Tony -which, sadly for Peter was purely platonic- to a proper romantic relationship makes feelings bubble up in his stomach that he doesn’t know how to feel about.

Sure, Mr. Stark treated him incredibly well, listened to his ideas and supported him during all of his time at Stark Industries. He often gave Peter wonderful gifts, knew exactly how to make him laugh, and made Peter feel the most in charge he’s ever felt. Peter can’t remember ever feeling as actively needed and appreciated as he does around Tony. And of course the older man is also very attractive, with those gorgeous dark eyes of his and that incredible jawline which- wait, where was he even going with this?

Peter flops onto his belly at the feeling of his cheeks heating up. He buries his head in his stomach and groans into it. He’s acting like an idiot again, which is what got him into this whole mess in the first place. If he’d been reasonable he’d never have thought of Mr. Stark kissing him, and he wouldn’t have felt the need to leave Stark Industries. If he’d just thought before acting he would still be able to be around Tony, maybe then he would actually have had a chance.

He turns his head so that it isn’t pressed into his pillow anymore, and curls into a ball. He wraps his blanket around his body a bit tighter, closing his eyes and sighing softly. He’s gotten himself into this situation, now it’s his responsibility to deal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one isn't too eventful! I've kind of been having an inspirational lull, so getting this done was a bit of a struggle. But anyway, Peter is finally realising that he's into Tony! It's taken me quite a while to get to this point, but I'm exited to finally be there. Aunt May is still blissfully unaware that anything is going on with Peter, but MJ and Ned are starting to catch up. The two of them are so fun to write, so I can't wait to involve them more!
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys liked this update even though it isn't the most exiting one! As always, if you want to come talk to me or want to encourage me to finish the next chapter, you can follow my on tumblr under the name starkerbee. Thanks for reading!


	9. Chapter 9

“Tony!”

Tony looks up from where he was staring down at his desk, dreaming off instead of listening to whatever Pepper had been talking about for the past twenty minutes. He clears his throat as he sits up straight in his desk chair, attempting to make it seem like he wasn’t just completely ignoring her. Pepper looks at him disappointedly, her head slightly tilted to the side, lips pursed. Tony averts his eyes, turning a blind eye to her judgemental gaze.

“You need to get your shit together, Stark.”

“What are you talking about?” He timidly responds, playing dumb for as long as he can.

Pepper sighs, shaking her head as she looks at Tony. She knows by now that he’s full of shit, Tony has been shying away from this exact conversation for weeks now. She’s tired of it, he’s had his time to mope, now he needs to get back out there and show his men that he’s still in charge before this whole company crumbles to bits. She isn’t going to let that happen.

“So what, some highschool boy broke your fucking heart. It’s happened to the best of us. You need to get over him or he’s going to be the death of you.”

Tony clenches his jaw, his shoulders dropping down. He looks small like that, tired and broken. His hair is a mess and he hasn’t properly shaven in days. He looks like shit.   
He knows that in some way she’s right, his men need constant guidance from him to keep them in line. Pepper has been filling in for him wherever she can, but even she knows that it’s different when the orders come from Tony. As much power as she has, there will always be men who refuse to listen to a woman, even if she’s a thousand times more qualified than they are.

“He isn’t just some fucking highschool boy, Pepper.” He chokes out.

Peter is so much more than that. Peter is bright, and insightful. He knows how to spin the conversation in a room around to something that favors him, how to hold the attention of men four times his statue. Peter is more cunning than he himself realises he is, and Tony misses having him around so fucking much. It’s Peter who made the meetings bearable, who made afternoons hidden away in his office enjoyable, who brought fun back into Tony’s life.

And now he’s gone, and it’s Tony’s fault, and everything is just so fucking boring without him around.

The room is silent for a while, both of them struggling to find the words to respond to Tony’s declaration. Pepper sees the pain in his eyes, and she knows that for once telling Tony to man up isn’t going to solve anything.

Pepper is the first one to speak up. “You’re going to have to fix this yourself, you know.”  
Tony glances up at her, opens his mouth as if to say something, but shuts it again. He knows she’s right, Peter most definitely won’t just walk up to Stark Tower to come make up. Tony is the one who will have to take charge of the situation at hand. But it’s difficult, because he’s still afraid. He didn’t want to admit it at first, but he only killed Romaro because he was scared that the man was going to go after Peter. After Tony’s wonderful, sweet, Peter.

But Peter is a strong person, and he had Tony to protect him, so there was no reason for him to react the way he did. Unless, Tony was developing feelings for Peter that he shouldn’t be feeling towards him at all. Fuck, that’s exactly what's happening to him, isn’t it?

Tony can admit that he’s done a lot of stupid things in his life, but right now falling in love with Peter is pretty high up on his list. Peter deserves better than Tony. He deserves to be safe, to have a normal life, to fall in love with someone who he can invite over to meet his aunt. Tony can’t be that person for him. 

But he’s selfish, and he’s fallen in love with Peter anyway. And because he’s that selfish, he’s going to end up letting it consume him, until he can’t help but act on his feelings. It’s terrible, but he knows himself, it’s inevitable. And Peter? Well, the chance that he actually has feelings for Tony isn’t decimal. Tony is a terrible person, but he has money, and he’s wan enough to admit that he isn’t hard on the eyes. Even if it wasn’t for love, Peter could gain enough from a relationship with Tony. Power, money, protection.

There’s a small chance that that’d be enough for him.

And maybe it isn’t, and maybe Peter will end up rejecting him. Tony’s mature enough to accept that outcome, he values Peter enough to respect whatever choice the boy ends up making. And if Peter does reject him, Tony will make sure that there’ll be no consequences for that. He could arrange for Peter to be transferred to one of Stark Industries’ many departments. Peter is gifted, and Tony’s feelings shouldn’t hinder his progression in the company a single bit. Tony reckons that Peter could get very far in the company if only he gets the wiggle room to do so.

Nevertheless, the decision isn’t up to Tony. Peter is the one who holds all the cards, Tony just has to present them to him. Pepper is right, he is the one who has to take the first step.

“Is his aunt home?” Tony asks.

Pepper’s eyes shoot up to his face from where she was focused on one of the files she’d brought into the room with her. Her eyebrow quirks up, as she reaches for her phone. She taps away at it for a minute, ignoring the way Tony is now loudly tapping his desk with the tip of his pen. He watches as her finger thuds on the screen one last time, before she lays it back down in front of her. 

“And?” He asks impatiently.

Pepper shakes her head slowly “She’s working right now, so Peter is most likely home alone.”

With these words Tony abruptly stands up from his seat behind his desk, his chair shoving back loudly in the silence of the room. A look of determination crosses Tony’s face, and Pepper knows that whatever stupid idea he’s come up with, she can’t stop him from acting out. She stays seated as she watches Tony call for Happy, clean up the papers on his desk, and shrug on his coat before he leaves the room. As she sits there, alone in his office, she can’t help but shake her head.

“That kid really is going to be the death of him.” She mumbles to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 9 is finally here! This one took a little while, but i'm so happy I could finally post it for you guys. It's a little short, but I felt like if I continued it it would end up being way too fucking long. I'm so glad I could finally write this part though, Tony realising that he's in love with Peter is something I've been working towards for so long. I'm actually pretty happy with how it turned out.  
> I also just want to go ahead and show some love to one of my best friends (you know who you are lol), who has been so super supportive of me and this fic. It's made this experience so much more enjoyable for me, and I really really appreciate it. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you guys liked this chapter! And as always, if you want to come encourage me to write the next chapter a bit faster, come hit me up on my tumblr starkerbee!


	10. Chapter 10

Happy’s car comes to a screeching halt in front of Peter’s apartment complex. Tony steps out, and glances at the tan building, shaking his head at the fact that a lovely boy like Peter has to live in such a generic place. He tells Happy to stick around for an hour, and to leave if Tony doesn’t come outside by then. Happy only gives a curt nods as a response, clearly aware of the weird mood his boss is in.

Tony wants to storm into the building, but after pulling at the door a few times, he realizes that he’ll have to ring Peter’s doorbell to actually be let into the building. Of course that’s what he has to do, this is reality, not some story written by a hormonal teenage girl, he can’t just walk into a building in order to declare his undying love to Peter.

He traces his finger across the name boards next to the doorbells, searching for the one that says ‘Parker’. He finds it, and eagerly presses the button, the loud noise ringing in his ears. Other than that it stays silent, and Tony realizes that either Peter isn’t home, or he doesn’t want to answer. He rings again, and this time the little speaker in front of him makes some cracking noises, before Peter’s voice comes through.

“Hello, who’s this?”

Tony feels his heart clench at the sound of his voice, he hadn’t realized how much he missed hearing it. He clears his throat, afraid how how he’ll sound to Peter.

“Hi Peter, this- this is Tony. Can we talk?”

Peter goes silent at this, the only sound coming through the speaking being his soft breathing, and the cracking of the low quality speaker. Tony worries that that’s the last he’ll hear, that Peter is going to hang up, and that he’ll have to accept that Peter doesn’t ever want to see him again.

But then, like a blessing, Peter does speak. 

“I’ll- yes, of course Mr. Stark. I’ll let you in.”

The door next to Tony gives a click, and when he pushes it he’s able to step into the halfway of the building. It’s damp, and smells vaguely of dog. Tony wrinkles his nose, and heads to the stairway. His ascend up to Peter’s apartment seemingly takes hours, he doesn’t like to admit it, but he’s nervous. There’s no way for him to estimate how Peter is going to react to Tony’s confession. He just hopes this won’t blow up in his face.

When he reaches the right floor Peter is already waiting for him in the doorway. The sight of the boy takes Tony’s breath away, he looks even more petite than he did the last time he saw him. His white shirt engulfs him, and the sweatpants on his hips are baggy. Some instinct inside of Tony starts screaming at him to ‘get the boy some food, dammit’ but his feet are rooted to the floor. Even though he looks tired and scrawny, Peter still manages to look absolutely gorgeous in Tony’s eyes. Peter shoots him a small, shy smile and Tony feels his entire body relax. The effect the boy has on him is incredible, and Tony can’t help but feel grateful.

“Hi.” Peter says, his voice soft and unsure.

Tony’s hand clenches around the staircase railing, his breath hitching in his chest. He missed that voice so incredibly much these past few weeks.

“Hi Peter.” He eventually responds.

Peter steps backwards a little, wordlessly inviting Tony to join him inside the apartment. Tony accepts, walking up the final few steps of stairs and into the home. It’s warmer here than it was in the hallway, and Tony reaches to take off his coat while he takes in the interior. The place feels homey, lived in even, something that usually lacks in Tony’s own home. The big white chair with a decorative knitted pillow catches his eye, and he can’t help but imagine Peter curled up in it after a long day. Tony comes to the conclusion that this place definitely suits Peter, possibly even better than the overtly modern building Tony keeps inviting him over to. 

For some reason he feels guilty.

Peter reaches for the coat that Tony is now holding, and hangs it up on the coat rack behind him. They stand there for a bit longer, neither of them speaking, both just taking each other in. Tony, who has spent most of his adult life dominating every room he’s stepped into, suddenly feels powerless in the presence of Peter. It’s a terrifying change, but one he’ll wholeheartedly accept if it means Peter will return to his life.

“Do you want something to drink?” Peter offers to break the silence, and the mundanity of the question hits Tony like a ton of bricks. He lets out a breathless chuckle before nodding, and Peter can’t help but smile at him.

“I’m sorry,” the boy timidly continues, “I don’t really know what to do right now to make this feel normal.”

Tony shakes his head at him, relieved that he isn’t the only one who can feel the tension in the room. He offers the kid a smile, praying that lightheartedness will make them both feel more at ease.

“Peter, I don’t think there is any way this situation could feel normal.”

Peter turns away from Tony, walking into the kitchen to get him that drink he offered. Tony stays still where he’s standing, watching the kid reach into a cupboard, clinking the glasses together as he grabs two. His eyes don’t falter away from Peter’s movements, enraptured to see him do something so mundane.

The sound of the faucet turning on shakes him out of his trance, and he turns away to sit down somewhere. The big white chair briefly registers as an option to him, but that fantasized view of Peter curled up in it makes him retreat to the couch opposite it.

Peter walks back to where Tony is now seated, handing him a glass of water and wrapping his hands around his own as he moves to sit down in the white chair. Tony can’t help but notice the difference in this exchange from their usual one. Every time before this he’d been the one to hand Peter a drink. Tony sips his drink in silence, watching as Peter worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

“This is weird.” Peter eventually says to break the silence. “I know you wanted to talk, but I- I’m not sure how I can fix all of this.”

“It’s not your problem to fix, Peter.” Tony responds “I screwed up when I sent you away, I’m the responsible for all of this.”

Peter opens his mouth, as if to disagree with him, but doesn’t seem to be able to actually come up with something to say. Tony just hopes this means he still has a chance with him.

“Having you around was wonderful.” Tony continues, “And I ruined it by letting my feelings get in the way. I care about you, more than I know I should. Romantically. If it- if my feelings don’t upset you, then I’d love to invite you back to Stark Industries.”

The seconds it take for Peter to respond are filled with tension so thick you could cut it. Tony feels a block form in his stomach, thick and heavy as he watches Peter’s stunned expression. He’s fully prepared to be rejected, to be asked to leave, to be slapped in the face even. But none of that happens.

Peter’s blank expression gradually shifts into one of surprise, eyebrows raising and mouth opening just the slightest bit. It only last for a second -an excruciatingly long one, if you ask Tony- before he blushes, his cheeks turning a dusty pink. Then the corners of his mouth turn up, lips splitting into a smile. His eyes seem to twinkle with glee, like a kid in a candy store.

Tony is just confused.

“Kid, are you- are you okay? I get it if you don’t feel comfortable around me anymore. You don’t have to-“

“I feel the same way.” Peter loudly interrupts him, shaking Tony out of his monologue. The boy smiles shyly, looking down at his shoes the second the words leave his mouth. He looks tiny like this, Tony notes, even tinier than he did just minutes ago. Peter looks so vulnerable, so innocent, that Tony can feel his heart clench at the sight of him.

And then the words sink in. Peter- wonderful, smart, sweet Peter- feels the same way about him.

“I didn’t- I didn’t think you’d be interested in me. I mean, you’re so cool and you could probably date anyone in New York if you wanted to, and I’m just- I’m just Peter.” Peter mumbles.

Tonly frowns at hearing this, standing up from his seat and moving to stand in front of Peter. The towers over the boy this way, which forces Peter to look up at him. Tony stretches out a hand to cradle Peter’s jaw with, his fingers stroking the soft skin of the boy’s face. He looks him in the eye, determined to make what he’s about to say stick in Peter’s mind.

“Don’t you ever speak about yourself like that again, okay? You’re wonderful, and I’m so lucky to have you in my life. You’re not ‘just Peter’, you’re an incredibly smart person, you’re kind, you’re a good nephew and a great business partner. You might not see it, but I do, and I’m not going to let you talk yourself down like that anymore.”

Peter averts his eyes, the finger softly stroking his cheek not seizing it’s movement. He bites his lip, the look on his face unsure and disbelieving. It takes him a minute, but then he softly nods, accepting the words. Peter looks back up, gazing at the man holding him so delicately and loving.

“Can I kiss you?” The words stumble out of Tony’s mouth.

Peter’s eyes shoot up again, looking into Tony’s eyes one second and darting down to the man’s lips the other. He doesn’t have to wait long for an answer, the mumbled “Yes, please.” falling from Peter’s lips like he’s been waiting to say it all of his life.

And so he kisses him, and it’s not the mind blowing, sparks flying, fireworks cracking kiss you’d expect. It’s better, it’s soft and unpracticed and packed full of longing. Peter’s lips are soft against Tony’s, their teeth bumping together occasionally, Tony having to take the lead because Peter very obviously doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s new and exciting, and just feels so goddamn right that Tony wants to slap himself for not doing it any sooner. When they finally break apart they’re both out of breath, feeling like they ran a marathon even though they haven’t moved an inch. Peter’s face is beautifully blushed, and his lips red and shiny. He looks gorgeous, and Tony can’t believe how lucky he is.

“Wow.” Peter exclaims, his eyes wide and dreamy.

Tony chuckles at Peter’s reaction, leaning back in and giving him another, although shorter, soft kiss. He doesn’t think kissing anyone has ever felt this right, and it’s a very welcome change. He doesn’t ever want to stop feeling like this.

“So, can we add ‘boyfriend’ to the list of words you use to describe me?” Peter asks, “Or am I getting my hopes up right now?”

“I’d actually really like that, if you’re up for it.”

Peter’s face lights up again, smiling from ear to ear. Tony’s heart feels so incredibly full. The fact that he now gets to enjoy Peter fully, without having to create boundaries for himself, is wonderful. He can’t believe how lucky he is.

Peter looks him right in the eyes, the happiest Tony has ever seen him.

“Good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like this is really bad, but I can't seem to fix it so I thought I'd just upload it anyway. But anyway, I hope it wasn't too disappointing! The slow burn has finally come to an end, I think it was about time lol. Figuring out how to get it to this point took some trial and error, but I think it worked out just fine. The only big writing obstacle in this fic now is to keep up that dynamic between Tony and Peter that we all love.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. As always, if you want to come chat about this fic (or anything else), please drop by my tumblr, I'm also starkerbee over there! <3


	11. Chapter 11

“Wade, it’s your job to assassinate the target we assign to you. It’s not, and this part is very important, your job to also kill anyone else who’s in the room with them. You’re not the one who gets to play judge, jury and executioner, not as long as you work for Mr. Stark. Focus. On. The. Target. If you can’t do that I’ll be sure to make it my personal duty to see to it that someone burns your skin off with a cast iron pan, alright? Try to avoid it, it’d be a shame if I’d never get to see that pretty little face of yours again.”

With a tap to the man's cheek, Peter pulls away from where he was leaned over a seated Wade Wilson, moving his hands away from the elbow rests of the man’s chair, now no longer caging him in. Wade doesn’t look scared, more intrigued if anything, which doesn’t surprise Peter much. By now he’s given countless similar speeches to other men, men who’d been terrified at hearing his words, but Wade really isn’t like any other man he’s ever met.

Wade Wilson is the most headstrong, cocky bastard Peter has ever met. He’s loud, has no sense of how to behave in a professional setting and makes horribly inappropriate jokes. Not that Peter minds though, because Wade is also one of his closest friends at Stark Industries, keeping him company during the moments that Tony’s not around. Let's just say that Wade makes for good entertainment.

Of course Peter would rather spend all of his time at the company with Tony, but Tony is still the boss of a huge crime organisation and that means that he can’t always have his boyfriend hanging on his arm. It was a shame, but Peter found that he actually really appreciates the time he gets to spend roaming around the building and meeting all of the employees. The people who work for Stark Industries tend to be interesting folk, which Peter imagines to be a requirement for working for a crime lord.  
It was actually during one of these adventures of his that he met Wade, who works as an assassin for the company, who’d been lounging around in one of the break rooms wearing a blood stained shirt. (Peter still isn't sure wether it was Wade's or someone else's.) The older man had glanced at Peter as he walked into the room, smiled at him, and saluted him with the bright pink cocktail he was holding onto.

They’d been friends ever since.

Tony doesn’t like Wade all to much, but he still reserves the act of intimidating him whenever he fucks up to Peter, which Peter appreciates greatly. He's found that intimidation is something he really enjoys doing. It’s actually become one of his favorite activities. Charming men with his looks and kind words, before delving into all of the terrible things he’ll get Tony to do to them if they step out of line ever again. Peter knows that he isn’t the most intimidating person ever, but Tony’s men know who Peter is, know that he’s Tony’s boy. They know that if they ever do something to upset Peter, Tony will make sure that they’ll hang for it. Because of that, Peter has power.

And he’s found that power is greatly addictive.

“Alright Petey-Pie, i’ll try my best next time, pinky-promise.”

Wade stretches out his arm dramatically, sticking his pinky out and staring Peter down. Peter deliberates for a second, he knows that Wade pulls these stunts to others all of the time, but he trusts him enough to believe that Wade will actually try for him. Peter sighs in defeat, intertwining his own pinky with Wade’s. The older man smiles brightly at him, before jumping out of his chair.

“Alright, I gotta go, tell that hunk of a boyfriend of yours that I said hi.” The older man teases.

“He’s still your boss Wade, be respectful.”

Wade scoffs, a playful tinkle in his eyes. “It’s not like he’ll ever want to fire me, he knows I’m insane enough to kill him.”

Peter laughs at this, he knows Wade is right about being insane, but he also knows that Tony would never be stupid enough to fire the assassin without killing him. He’d never give Wade the opportunity to even get close to killing him. It’s a weird thing to know, but it’s in a way also very reassuring that Tony has the upper hand over Wade. It makes Peter feel oddly safe.

“I’ll tell him you said hi, okay?” Peter says as he waves Wade goodbye, watching as Wade walks out of the room, probably on his way to annoy someone else.

Wade definitely is a weird one, but Peter can’t deny that having him around makes his days a lot more interesting.

\---

 

“I missed you.” Peter says from where he’s sitting on Tony’s lap, his legs cushioned on Tony’s. He’s got his arms wrapped around Tony’s shoulders, while the other man is using his right hand to rub comforting circles onto Peter’s back. They’d been sitting like this for a few minutes now, both of them appreciative of the comfortable silence in the room. They’d been spending a lot of time together like this, hidden away in Tony’s office during the short breaks they’d take every now and then. Work had been taking up a lot of Tony’s time, so Peter basked in every moment he got to spend with him.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.” Tony answers, smiling up at Peter. He reaches up with his free hand to softly stroke Peter’s cheek with his thumb. It’s an action that never fails to make Peter blush.

“How about we go out to dinner tonight, huh?

“Where do you want to go?” Peter asks, leaning into Tony’s touches.

Tony hums lowly, showing that he’s thinking, the sound rumbling in his chest. Peter smiles down at him, giddy that Tony is taking him out and amused by the man’s dramatic nature. He knows Tony has probably already made reservations for some high end restaurant, and that he’s just pretending to think to humor Peter, but it’s fun to pretend that he hasn’t.

“I was thinking we could go to that sushi place you liked last time.”

“Masa?” Peter interjects.

Tony nods, laughing at Peter’s excited face. Peter had told him sometime last month that eating at Masa was what he imagined to be the ‘height of luxury’. He’d read about the place in a Buzzfeed article, and had talked about the restaurant to Tony with stars shining in his eyes. Imagining that, how would anyone expect Tony to not book the two of them a table? Any sane man would cave at the sight of Peter Parker’s puppy eyes.

“Masa is so expensive though, wouldn’t it be better to go somewhere else?” Peter asks, his excitement from earlier slightly simmered down.

“Peter, doll face, I’m an actual billionaire. I think I can handle buying an expensive meal or two. I don’t want you to have to worry about any of that, okay?”

Peter hesitates to a second, but eventually nods in agreement. Having Tony spend all of this money on him is something he isn’t completely comfortable with just yet. Him and his aunt got by just fine, but they were nowhere near rich enough to just casually throw money around like Tony does. It’s a nice change of pace though, to be spoiled as much as he is by the older man.

Peter smiles up at Tony, his cheeks a rosy pink and still leaning into his touches.

“Pick me up at six?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so so sorry for how long it’s taken me to get this chapter posted! Life has been an absolute shit show, so writing this was though.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this one though! As always, you can find me on Tumblr under the username starkerbee, feel free to come talk to me over there!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to give a quick heads-up to anyone reading this, but because of this chapter the rating of this story and some of the tags have changed. Please take a look at them before reading any further. 
> 
> Stay safe.

Dinner was great. Incredible, even. The food was delicious, and Tony’s fondness of squandering his money made it possible for Peter to absolutely stuff his face with expensive sushi. Tony had actually been the perfect gentleman all night long, complimenting Peter non-stop, pulling out his chair for him, attentively listening to his stories and other incredibly sweet things like that.

And really, Peter appreciates all of Tony’s gestures. But how can he properly enjoy it all when the most gorgeous man in the world is seated in front of him?

Seriously, Tony Stark looks like a Greek god. He’s all gorgeous and tan, his beard is perfectly manicured and his dark green suit just makes him look outright _expensive_. Peter’s honestly proud of himself for not starting to drool the second he opened the door to the sight of his boyfriend. Honestly, he should be given an award or something.

They’re in the back of Happy’s car now, their dining having come to an end, driving back to Peter’s place. Tony is holding his hand, thumb softly rubbing over his palm. Peter feels full, happy and comfortable. He never wants this night to end. And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Because Tony will drop him off with a kiss and some sweet words, and then Peter won’t see him until the next time he finds a way to sneak to Stark Tower around May’s back.

It sucks, and Peter is getting tired of it. And a tired Peter isn’t the smartest, a tired Peter blurts out his words without mulling them over first. It’s never that big of a problem until moments like this, when it comes back to bite him in the ass.

“Do you want to come upstairs with me?”

The words spill out of Peter’s mouth the second Happy parks the car in front of his building. He immediately sends a thank you out into the universe, for whatever it did to make Tony ask for the partition to be rolled up when they first stepped into the vehicle. Could you imagine how fucking embarrassing it would have been if Happy had heard that?

Tony’s thumb stutters in its movement, staying still for just a split second. Peter blushes at this, biting his lip in embarrassment. There he goes, making a fool out of himself again.

“I’d like that.” Tony says, smiling.

“Really?” Peter chokes out.

Tony nods, giving Peter’s hand a quick squeeze. “Only if that’s what you really want, doll. I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

Peter deliberates for a minute. He’s never done anything like that before. Really, this whole thing with Tony is his first ever relationship. Of course the thought of sleeping with someone is scary, but Peter’s found that it’s also sort of exiting. Tony is wonderful, and Peter knows that the older man would do anything to make him feel comfortable. He’d be well taken care of.

And it’s not like Peter has never imagined losing his virginity to Tony, he’s a teenager after all. It’d almost be weird if he hadn’t imagined it. Tony is gorgeous, and Peter’s hormones tend to go _fucking haywire_ at the sight of him. He’d be lying if he said that their, somewhat frequent, make out sessions didn’t tend to get him all hot and bothered.

So fuck it, why shouldn't Tony come upstairs?

Peter bites at his bottom lip, his cheeks flushed a ruby red. “That’s what I want. I’m sure of it.” he says.

The next few moments are a blur to the both of them. There was some making out in the car and a few quick orders to Happy before Peter was being swept off of his feet and being carried bridal style to the doorstep of his apartment building. They managed to get all the way to Peter’s floor without letting go of each other, and magically didn’t run into a single one of his neighbours.

Thank god for that. Peter would for sure have died of shame if his elderly neighbour Mrs. Hayson had caught them.

But now here they are, standing safely in the middle of Peter’s living room, both of them panting and red cheeked from both the kissing and the trip upstairs. Peter giggles a bit at the sight of Tony’s hair, messy and sticking up in places from where Peter had dragged his hands through it. He doesn’t feel tense at all, just warm and giddy.

Tony leans in for another kiss, his lips soft against Peter’s. He slowly pulls away not long after, murmuring his words in a low tone that makes Peter break out into goosebumps.

“Where do you want to do this?”

Peter grabs Tony’s hand, shooting him a smile as he pulls the older man down the hallway towards his bedroom. He’s not about to just lose his virginity on his aunts dining room table.

From there on it’s a blur of clothes being thrown around, lips sucking bruises onto necks, trembling hands gripping sheets, muffled moaning and encouraging words. Peter doesn’t think he’s ever felt this wanted, this connected to someone else. The emotions are overwhelming, and he can’t help but let a tear run free when Tony’s cock sinks into him for the first time. It doesn’t hurt, Tony had made sure that it wouldn’t, but the feeling of their bodies connecting is enough to smother any bit of Peter’s reluctance to show his emotions.

It’s just _that_ good.

Tony is like an anchor above him, strong and sturdy and working efficiently to make sure Peter doesn’t completely lose himself in the waves of it all. His hands are planted on top of the mattress beside Peter’s head, his mouth showering Peter’s face, neck and chest in kisses. Tony looks good like this, of course he does, his forehead scrunched up a bit in concentration, beads of sweat running down his muscled body.

Peter’s orgasm hits him like a freight train. All the muscles in his body tense up, every nerve in his body feeling like they’d been electrified. His lip catches between his teeth as a guttural moan leaves his throat. (One that, in any other situation, would have embarrassed the living hell out of him.) His fingers clamp onto Tony’s arm, squeezing the skin beneath them.

And then, like a rag-doll, his entire body relaxes. His muscles relax and he sinks into the mattress below him, now no longer moaning but softly letting out whimpers at Tony’s every move. Tony isn’t far behind him though, only trusting once, twice, thrice more before coming into the condom that’s separating him and Peter. Tony’s arms buckle, but he catches himself just in time before he collapses onto Peter, instead letting himself fall onto the mattress besides Peter.

They lay there for a minute, silent if not for the sound of their mutual panting.

“So,” Tony breaks the silence, “did I live up to your expectations?”

Peter breaks out into giggles, rolling over into his side to face Tony. His muscles are starting to ache, but he’s sure he’s never felt this good.

“Live up to them? You hit them out of the ballpark. I think you might have ruined me for everyone else.”

“Good.” Tony says, wrapping his arm around Peter’s middle and pulling him into his chest. “That means I’ll have you all to myself for forever.”

Peter lays there, his naked skin pressed up against Tony’s, his face pressed against the older man’s chest. His heart is still beating erratically in his chest, but his mind is completely calm. Outside of this room the city is bustling with people, all hurriedly trying to get to wherever they need to be, their eyes always on the clock. Time is money, and money isn’t something they can afford to let go.

But here, cuddled up against Tony, time seems to stand still. Peter can afford to be in the moment, without a single worry. Because, looking up at Tony, he’s pretty sure he’s already hit the jackpot anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was going to have a completely different ending point, but I got too caught up in the fluff and just couldn't do it. Peter and Tony's happiness isn't something I particularly felt like ruining. Also, this is my first time writing any smut (if you can even call whatever this was smut) so I hope it was enjoyable. I know that there are quite a few of you who have been waiting for this moment, so it was fun to actually write it.
> 
> Anyway, I just want to give a quick bit of information for those of you who were curious about what was going to happen to my writing after the events of Endgame. For me personally, not a lot will change. Most of the things that I write don't take place in the MCU, and if they do it's never the main focus. As for now i'll continue this fic, and any other short pieces of writing that I do, by pretending that that... ending... didn't happen. Ignorance is bliss.
> 
> As always, feel free to come talk to me on my tumblr, which is also starkerbee. Asks make me really happy, so go wild :)


	13. Chapter 13

Peter squints at the light streaming into the room through the gaps in his curtain. The room is cold, so the warm sunlight is greatly appreciated. He stifles a yawn, and turns his head to shield his eyes. He cuddles deeper against the warm body next to him, smiling once his mind registers that it’s Tony. The memory of yesterday is still fresh, both in Peter’s mind and his body. He was nervous yesterday, but he’s glad that things have gone the way that they have. Tony took care of him, just like Peter had expected.

 

Beside him Tony starts to stir, waking up after Peter’s movement. Peter looks up at him, watching as the older man scrunches up his face slightly before opening his eyes. Tony looks a little hazy at first, his brain starting up, but he smiles at the sight of Peter cuddled up against him.

 

“Good Morning, sweetheart.” Tony says, his voice raspy from sleep.

 

“Morning, did you sleep well?” Peter responds.

 

Tony nods, leaning down slightly to give Peter a kiss on his forehead. “I don’t think I’ve slept this well in years. Something tells me you’ve got a hand in that.”

 

Peter chuckles, “hmm yeah, I might have. I guess that means you’ll just have to keep me around for a bit longer, huh?”

 

Tony laughs in agreement, his arm reaching up to wrap around Peter’s middle, pulling the boy closer to him. 

 

Their peace doesn’t last long.

 

“Tony Stark, what are you doing in my house?” Peter hears his aunt cry out from where she’s appeared in his doorframe.

 

Peter whips his head around, flinging himself to the other side of his bed as quickly as he can. He glances down at himself, and pulls his duvet over his nude body in an attempt to hide away himself, and the hickeys that are already forming down his torso, knowing that they’re not going to help his case.

 

He’s really fucked up now, hasn't he? It’s official, Tony Stark’s cock turns Peter Parker into an absolute idiot. They’d been so careful to hide their relationship from May, only for Peter to just spontaneously forget that his aunt would be home in the morning the second that he’s been promised a good pounding.

 

And now they’d been found out.

 

Tony sits up straight, not even attempting to make himself look more decent. Peter usually loves his confidence, but at times like these he really wishes that the older man could just stop it for a minute. It’s like he doesn’t even care that he was just caught in an indecent position with someone who’s very much not of age.

 

Fuck, his aunt is going to get Tony sent to jail, isn’t she? He’ll never get to see him again, and his aunt will probably end up killing Peter herself for being so damn stupid. That’s it, his life is officially over.

 

“Well hello May, didn’t expect to see you here today.”

 

Wait- How did his boyfriend and his aunt know each other?

 

Aunt May has her hand resting on her side, her lips are pursed and her head tilted. If Peter’s being honest, she looks more... displeased than she does angry. It’s not exactly the reaction he’d expected from her.

 

“Well you should have expected me, you’re the one who decides what shifts I work. I’m only here because you let me go home.”

 

Tony’s mouth twists into an unsteady grin, one of his hands moving up to comb through his messy hair. Peter’s eyes dart from Tony to May, still very confused as to how the situation has turned out.

 

Tony nods slowly before responding “Well, you know, this wasn’t really how I was planning on telling you.”

 

Aunt May raises her eyebrows “Your master plan for telling me you’re fucking my nephew _wasn’t_ to let me catch you two cuddling butt naked in my apartment? What a surprise.”

 

Peter has his head tilted, his brow furrowed uncharacteristically. “What is going on?” he asks loudly, the other two turning towards him for the first time in this weird conversation they’re having.

 

“Why aren’t you mad?” he asks, turning towards his aunt “And why are you not freaking out about her finding out?” he asks Tony. “Why are you two so fucking calm?” he finally questions, his voice loud.

 

The hand on his aunts hip drops to her side, and Tony sighs audibly. At this point it becomes pretty obvious to Peter that something, something huge, had been kept a secret from him. He turns towards Tony, his eyes big and pleading.

 

Tony hunches over slightly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers for a second before looking back up at the teenager.

 

“Your aunt she- she works for me, sweetheart, she works for the company. She has been for a long time.”

 

Peter gasps, his hands clenching around the fabric of the duvet covering him. He feels himself tremble. All this time, all of these years he had kept this part of himself a secret from her. And why? Because he thought she’d think he was disgusting. Because she'd be disappointed in him. She’d hate him for how he coped with the loss of his uncle, the loss of his parents.

And now he finds out that it was all for nothing, that he spent all of that time hating himself for the way his mind works for no reason? All this time his aunt was dealing with this shit in the way Peter dreamt he could? Throwing him down a set of stairs would’ve probably hurt less than finding this out.

 

Peter stares up at his aunt, his face contorted in a mixture of anger and sadness. She feels her heart shatter, making her nephew this upset is exactly what she was trying to avoid. But she should have known. Him turning out this way was inevitable. Her lies only made things worse, even though that’s the opposite of what she was trying to achieve with them. She knows she’s partially the one to blame for this.

 

“For how long?” Peter asks her, his voice shaking.

 

“Petey we, your uncle and I-” she starts, Peter letting out a soft whimper at the mention of his uncle. May herself takes a deep breath, “We joined Stark Industries around the time we took you in. The hospital I was working for, well, it didn’t exactly pay much. And then Tony just showed up at our place one evening, offered me a job in his infirmary. I had the qualifications, and Ben and I needed the money.”

 

“Your aunt and uncle have always been incredible people, Peter” Tony chips in, “They kept this a secret because they wanted to protect you. They were doing the right thing.”

 

“No.” Peter interrupts him, pointing his finger at Tony, his voice shaking “You don’t get to tell me that what they did was right. You have no clue what it’s been like for me.”

 

Peter clenches his fists, his face flushing with anger.

 

“I felt like a _freak_ because they tried to do ‘the right thing’, I felt alone and ashamed because of ‘the right thing’. You have no idea what I went through, how much pretending to be ‘normal’ screwed me up. The idea of someday joining Stark Industries was the only thing that kept me going, the hope of finding a place where I fit in. And now you tell me that all of that was a lie? That this has been some scheme of yours all along? You don’t get to say that that was the right thing, Tony Stark. How dare you!” Peter screams.

 

May trembles from where she’s still standing in the doorway, gripping onto the wood as if to support herself. Tony doesn’t look much better, he’s hunched over, avoiding Peter’s gaze. Somewhere inside of himself, Peter feels slightly proud for affecting the older man so much.

 

“Was any of this even real?” Peter asks Tony, his voice just barely above a whisper, his bottom lip trembling.

 

Tony looks up at him, tears in his eyes. He nods, “I hired you because of your family, but sweetheart-” his voice breaks, “Everything after that was completely real.”

 

Peter feels hot tears stream over his cheeks, closing his eyes at Tony’s words.

 

“Leave. Please I just- I can’t do this.” He begs.

 

Tony stays still for a second before slowly nodding, and standing up from the bed. He gathers his clothes that had been strewn around the room, before glancing back at Peter for a moment. The boy looks a wreck, he had his head buried in his hands, and Tony can see him shaking.

 

May steps to the side as Tony leaves the room, and for a minute or two it’s silent in the apartment except for the sound of rustling clothes. The front door slams shut behind Tony, and both Peter and aunt May jump at the sound. The silence feels deafening, it doesn’t take long for Peter to start loudly sobbing.

 

Aunt May slowly walks towards the bed, sitting down on the bed next to Peter when he doesn’t seem to react. She timidly lays her right hand on his shoulder, rubbing it carefully in an attempt to console him. Peter just sobs harder, before turning towards her, and burying his face in her neck. Aunt May furrows her brow and closes her eyes, before properly embracing him. She can feel herself crying as well, but makes no attempt to wipe the tears away. Peter is more important right now.

 

It takes a long time before Peter calms down, his sobbing eventually quieting down until it’s nothing more than just whimpers. He’s still shaking slightly, but it’s nowhere near as bad as it was earlier. After a while Peter detangles himself from his aunt, roughly wiping at his blotchy red face with the corner of his duvet. He takes a deep breath and stares off into space. His eyes look unfocused, like he’s in a different world.

 

The look in his eyes scares May slightly, not being used to seeing Peter like this. She reaches up to stroke his arm in an act of affection, but Peter flinches away from her touch. May retreats her hand, and after a moment stands up from his bed.

 

“Peter, if- if you need me, i’ll be in my room.” May shakily says, before stepping out of the room and quietly closing the door behind her.

 

Peter just sits there, staring ahead of him, silent. He sits there, unmoving, for what seems like hours, just staring into the distance and letting his mind race. He’s confused and angry, and suddenly sitting in his room feels stifling. Peter waits until he hears the door of his aunt's bedroom close. He then gets up, wincing at the ache in his lower half, and gets dressed. Then it’s only a matter of minutes before he’s walked out of the door, ran down the stairs and walked out of his street.

 

He’ll figure out where he needs to go once he gets there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaahhh I've been sitting on this chapter for so long and I finally get to post it! If i'm going to be exact, I started writing this chapter on November 10th 2018, when I was also writing chapter 4. Back then I had no idea where in this story I was going to put this chapter, and I actually wasn't even sure I was going to put it in at all. Since then I've added a lot of things to it, and I've changed it a lot to fit in with the rest of the story. I'm so incredibly happy with the end result though, and I hope you guys enjoyed it too.
> 
> I also just want to let you all know that the next chapter is probably going to take a long time to be posted. Early next month I will be going on vacation, which means I'm probably not going to write much. I already have some ideas for that chapter, but I have no clue of when I'll be able to actually write them all down. Depending on wether inspiration strikes or not, I might be able to write a oneshot (probably unrelated to this fic) to post during my vacation. If you'd like to help me with that please send me requests, headcanons and other things like that on my tumblr, which is also starkerbee. Asks help me immensely with inspiration and motivation to write :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I'll talk to you guys next time!


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